The Third Side
by dragonkeeper19600
Summary: Armada verse. A familiar minicon's story from Cybetron to Earth and back again. This will recall some major events from the show, and some new stories as well. Come and see a journey about mortality, learning, and finding yourself.
1. Thief

_Prologue:_

_High Wire_

_Far beyond the reaches of space, a war raged. A war fierce enough to tear apart an entire planet. And, although not all involved knew it, the battles that took place would determine the fate of the entire universe._

_They say there are two sides to every struggle. Our struggle has three. Actually, there are really four, but the fourth side won't show up for a long time. Our side was the minority. Some considered it not to be a side at all, but believe me, we knew more about the war than both the other sides combined._

_We are called minicons, and for the first part of the war, we were alone..._

**Thief **

Grid

The night was totally still. At least, I was pretty sure it was night. It was hard to tell. On Cybertron, the sky was always black and dotted with stars. I'd heard of other planets with thicker atmospheres, that had bright skies during the day, whose suns were so close that they looked like big, floating orbs in the sky.

Of course, Cybertron fit into neither category. Just my luck. That was always my luck.

It had been two, three, maybe four hours, but the minicons in the ship still hadn't left. (We've got different time increments on Cybertron than the ones on Earth, but I'm going to use Earth time for all you humans. Nice of me, huh?) What the heck were they doing? I needed fuel, and to get it, they needed to be gone. I needed to be gone too. I was a loner and a wanderer by nature. Staying in the same place for too long made me anxious.

I was in an open area that had been wrecked by the war. The ground was craggy and uneven. There were ruins everywhere. Some of the ones on the perimeter were still smoldering from the more recent battles.

I guess you're pretty confused about now, so let me explain who I am. The name's Grid. Just Grid. We don't bother with surnames or any of that junk on Cybertron. (Unless you count things like "Magnus" or "Prime" or "Wave, and those don't really count.) Grid is the name I was created with, but before I'm halfway done, I'll have a new name. Oh, and I was sitting in this abandoned wasteland for a reason. I was getting ready to rob that minicon ship.

You could tell it was a minicon ship because of the size. Autobot and decepticon ships were MASSIVE to fit their huge passengers. Minicon ships were smaller, more practical. By the size of this one, I could tell it was probably built for three or four. It didn't surprise me that it was out in the middle of nowhere. Probably hiding from the autobots and decepticons, like I was.

Autobots. Decepticons. Bleh. There are some minicons out there who say we'd be better off if the autobots found us, others say decepticons. I say they're both wrong because, no matter who finds us, we still lose. They're both the same; they both just want to use us for their silly little war. I hate them! I wish they'd just go away.

But that would never happen. The autobots and he decepticons both owned Cybertron. This world wasn't ours. Our job was to run and hide. And serve, if we weren't successful with the first two.

Yeah, both the decepticons and autobots had a claim to Cybertron. The real question of the war was who would get to keep it.

The reason I was waiting to steal from a minicon ship was really pretty basic. I desperately needed some new oil; I was almost out. If I knew some way to get it without stealing it, then I would've picked that option. Too bad for me, there wasn't an option two. I didn't like stealing much. Too much work, not enough pay. But I had no other choice.

You're probably wondering why I'm wandering around by myself. Well, I've got my reasons…

Suddenly, I stood up. It was obviously night, because those minicons, whoever they were, _still_ hadn't left! How selfish can you get? Lazy bums must've been asleep. Well, no more waiting. See, sometimes things in life just sorta happen to you, and other times, you can't just wait around. You have to make it happen. Right now was one of those times.

Quietly as a possibly could, I snuck around the raised, warped metal I was hiding behind and crawled over some smoother (not smooth, smoother) ground. Every couple of minutes, I'd stop my army crawling and look around at the sky nervously. I knew that this area was abandoned, but I was still uneasy. Decepticons were capable of swooping right out of the sky and snatching ya up when you weren't looking. Better to be paranoid than dead.

It took _forever_, but I eventually made it to the ship. It was a pretty awesome ship, too. Very sleek, very state-of-the-art. I'd have probably thought that it belonged to royalty, that is, if that sort of thing existed among our kind.

Very carefully, I stood up on the tips of my feet, and fired a laser pulse from my hand. That was to weaken the hull. Then, I transformed the same hand into a buzz-saw and cut a hole out of the bottom. I lifted the circular plate down gently, so that it wouldn't clatter against the metal ground.

I jumped swiftly through the hole and hung onto the edge, peering into the ship. Couldn't waste a second; I desperately needed fuel. The interior of the ship was white, same as the outside. I switched to my thermal vision and scanned the walls and the floors, searching.

In only a second, I found what I was searching for. A sentry-bot was attached to the wall, its swivel-head moving back and forth to scan the perimeter. It was the same shade of white as the wall and didn't stick out. If not for my thermal scanning, I probably would've missed it. Sentry-bots are a form a security that only minicons use. If I took even one step inside the ship, it would detach from the wall and come after me like a shot, and the alarm would go off. Can't have that.

I quietly raised my hand and fired another pulse at the machine, disabling it. Then I climbed up through the hole. So far so good. Now where was that oil?

I switched back to normal vision and looked around. The long, white hallway went on for a few feet, before it split into a fork. Above each side of the fork, there was a sign. The one on the right read, "STORAGE ROOM" in big, bold leaders. Well, that was easy. If I had had a mouth, I would've grinned. Stupid idiots, labeling everything. Well, they would pay for it now, wouldn't they?

The hallway on the left had a sentry-bot, which I saw with my thermal vision and dodged. Lucky for me, the hallway on the right was really short and had no sentry-bot. It just opened up into a big room, stacked to the ceiling with oil drums. Which, I guess, kind of makes sense, because if a sentry-bot charged into a room firing lasers, and that room was filled with _oil_… well, that might be a problem.

I walked up to a stack and picked one up. I turned it around in my hands, examining it. For some reason, I felt kind of dejected. No, not some reason. I knew the reason. I had to swindle and steal what I wanted just to survive, and these three minicons had more oil than they could possibly drink. It wasn't fair.

I sighed, scooping up the one oil drum, and turned to leave. No need to be greedy. If I took just one, there was less of a chance that they would notice. I walked out the doorway…

… And the second I did, there was a loud wailing noise, and a laser flew right past my head, exploding into the wall on the other side.

I panicked and looked around, realizing what I'd done wrong. I'd forgotten the sentry-bot on the left hallway! _Slag!_ I thought_, Slag, slag slag! How could I have been so stupid? _In the split second I spent gaping like an idiot, I saw the sentry-bot detach from the wall, almost like I was seeing it in slow motion. Had to act fast.

I threw the oil drum in the air and transformed. The drum landed nicely in the cockpit. I hadn't transformed earlier because I couldn't risk the noise of the engine giving me away, but now, with the alarm blaring, it didn't seem to matter.

Only hesitating for a second to make sure the drum didn't fall, I sped off toward the exit.

That second of hesitation almost cost me my life. I had to really book it to get out of there in time, dodging lasers the whole way. One actually hit me, scorching a black mark onto my red paint, but I didn't slow down. I drove right through the hole in the floor and smacked my hood onto the ground below.

Shaking off the blow, I took off again. The alarm was disturbingly loud; you could hear it from outside the ship. It echoed around with sort of a ringing quality. As I zoomed away, I heard a voice yell angrily, "Hey, you there! Stop!" I paid them no mind.

Only when the ship was far outta sight and I was back in the shadow of the tall buildings did I allow myself to screech to a halt. I transformed and sat down, giving myself a second to rest. I was really out of fuel now. Better dig into that barrel.

I looked around real quick to make sure no one was looking, then, I sawed the lid off the top of the oil drum and drank it all in one sitting.

You're question probably is, "Hey? How can you even drink that if you don't even have a mouth?" My answer is: Shut up! That's my secret. You puny humans can wonder about it all you want.

Oh, and about that question you had before, why I live by myself, risking life and limb for one barrel of oil, well, I'll tell you the answer. It's because big groups bring nothing but trouble. If I traveled with a group, like the minicons I had seen before, I would just call attention to myself. If I lived in one of the villages, like so many other minicons, than that would attract attention, too. The autobots and decepticons could never know about me, I would make sure of it.

If you think I'm being paranoid, you're pretty dumb. Either that, or you haven't heard what I've heard. I'd heard the stories of captured minicons, of the horror of being forced to fight a war that wasn't even yours. I'd heard about decepticon raids on whole villages, with fire and smoke everywhere, while minicons scream and try to escape, only to run right into the clutches of cons they were trying to escape from. No thanks. That wasn't going to be me, no way in the pit. I wasn't going to become some decepti-bot's yes-man.

I finished the barrel and threw it away. It rolled away, clunking, and that was the only sound there was for miles. The alarm from the other minicons' ship had died down. The ship was gone to, I noticed through my zoom-in vision. They had probably left, knowing that the alarm might have attracted some unwanted attention. I was thinking that I probably should be leaving too, when I heard a voice. "Going somewhere?" it asked quietly.

I totally panicked. I didn't even perceive that it was a minicon voice that had spoke in our minicon language. The only thing I could think was the worst-case scenario. Living on a war torn planet can do that to you.

"Get away from me, Autobrat!" I shouted swinging my buzz-saw.

"Relax," the voice said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

I stopped being a spazz and looked. The voice was coming from a minicon about my height. His armor was a dark blue color that blended in nicely with the shadows. He had yellow optics. I could tell from his body structure that he probably transformed into some kind of jet. One unusual thing about him was that he had a face, which is rare among minicons. Like all minicon faces, it didn't move at all when he spoke.

"Oh," I said, slightly embarrassed, "Hi. What do you want?"

"What are you doing out here?" he asked flatly. He had one of those real heavy voices that let you know that the person speaking was real serious about everything.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I snapped. I didn't have time for stupid questions.

He did, apparently. "It just seems strange to see someone out by themselves, is all," he said. "Isn't there someplace you have to go?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," I said hotly, "Beat it. All this talking is going to attract someone." That statement was true enough, but more than anything, I just wanted him to leave.

"The decepticons retreated from this area already, and the autobots are camping a fair distance away. No one will come here tonight," he said.

For a second, I wondered how the heck he would know something like that. I was going to ask him, but I decided to drop it. "Who are you anyway? Why are even talking to me?" I asked him.

"I'm talking because I'm curious, okay?"

"About what?" I asked.

"About you of course," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look, I don't your name, but I was patrolling this area, and I saw you out there tonight," he told me. He leaned in real close and narrowed his eyes, "You should ashamed of yourself, stealing from your own kind. Just what are you doing with your life?"

I was about to answer him, but that last question threw me off. What was I doing with my life? What was that supposed to even _mean_? For some reason, that really set me off. "It's my life, okay?" I snapped, "Stay out of it!" I turned away, ready to stomp off.

"Wait a second," he called, "Hear me out. I think I've got the solution for a renegade like you."

I sighed but turned around anyway. "What solution?" I asked suspiciously.

"There's a minicon by the name of High Wire," he began, "And he's holding a meeting underground in the third sector tomorrow night. He wants every minicon to come."

"Are you fragging kidding me?" I asked unbelieving, "Does this High Wire guy really think he's so important that _every minicon_ will come and listen to what he has to say?"

"Yup," was the answer. Well, at least he was honest.

"_Every_ minicon can't really go," I argued. "What about the ones that have partners? There's supposed to be this sort of bond, and…"

"Believe me, I know about the bond," he said. There was this weird determined look on his face then. That's when I noticed that someone had stuck a small autobot sticker on his chest. They had either done it in a real hurry, or they were really sloppy, because the sticker wasn't exactly right. It was sort wrinkled, and it leaned a little to the left. I suddenly grew uncomfortable. He went on talking. "Don't worry about them, they'll show up."

"But it's supposed to be impossi-"

"I said, they'll show up," he repeated. Even though he said, "they," I got the feeling he meant "we." _We'll show up. _

"Well," I said after a second, "I guess I'll show up too. Got nothing better to do."

"Excellent," he said, still unexcited, "See you then." He turned to walk away.

"Wait!" I called, "Can you at least tell me your name?" After that, I at least deserved to know that much.

He waited a second. Then, he called back, "My name is Dirge. Yours?"

"It's Grid!" I called, "My name is Grid!"

Well human, I can safely tell you that I never did see Dirge again. But, if it weren't for him, all the crazy stuff that happened to me never would have. Guess I still owe him for that.

In case you didn't catch it already, my name was Grid. I'm a minicon, and this is my story. It's not only mine, actually, but I'm gonna be the one to tell it. I'll try to do a good job, but I'm not promising anything. Here's praying that you're up for it.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Whew! This chapter was long wasn't it! I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I'm glad that it got to be on paper. If you're wondering if this will be like my last fanfic, Mars, the answer for the most part is no. I won't be switching viewpoints for this one. Grid will tell most of it. High Wire will do the prologue and stuff like that, but that's about it.

If you don't recognize Grid yet, don't worry, you will.

I checked, and there is no minicon named Dirge. I made up the character, and I wanted to pick a name that wasn't taken already. I succeeded. Hope you enjoy this second fanfic. (Yes, I am still working on Mars. Patience)


	2. Gathering

**Gathering**

Grid

The Third Sector wasn't far from where I'd robbed that minicon ship. All it took was a 3 hour drive through wasted terrain and hostile robots. That's all. I'd seen some autobots and decepticons on the way, but they were always separate from each other, which meant no fighting. For a second, anyway.

Sector 3 isn't really a specific spot, more like a wide area. But, I was pretty sure I knew the place Dirge had been talking about. Somewhere in the middle was a crater that led underground. It was big enough for minicons to go through, but too small for any autobot or decepticon. Perfect. I felt kind of smug as I drove toward it. Whoever this High Wire guy was, he sure knew where to hold a meeting.

I figured I was in the right place when I saw a tiny orange helicopter flying in the same direction I was going. I transformed and skidded to a halt, hanging back to see what the helicopter did. As I watched, he transformed and ran into the crater I mentioned earlier. I smirked and started to walk in.

Right at that second, I heard an engine revving behind me. I jumped out of the way, like, _one second_ before this pink and yellow miniature tank-looking thing sped right over the spot where I was just standing. It screeched and slammed into some ruined metal that was lying just outside the hole.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" I snapped. "Where the pit did you learn to drive?" The thing that had nearly killed me didn't look like it was meant to go that fast. The wheels screeched and the engine wheezed in a really painful kind of way. It whirled around, laboring, to face me.

"Aw, don't be such a stick," a minicon voice said, "If you weren't in my way, it wouldn't be a problem, now would it?" He didn't sound angry like I was. He sounded thrilled. He had this boastful, excited sound to everything he said. It was really irritating.

"If you weren't driving like a _crazy maniac_, it wouldn't matter if I was in your way!" I yelled back. "What the slag were you _doing_ anyway?"

"I was seeing how fast I could go," he told me.

"How fast you could go without _crashing_?"

"Naw, just how fast I could go."

I blinked. It seemed to me like I was in the presence of some sort of maniac. I wondered if this guy had been caught yet, and if he hadn't, how the heck had he escaped? He had this really loud presence that you think would be hard to miss.

"Well, later Red Guy," he said, apparently talking to me, "I got places to go!" He drove off the wall he'd been leaning against and sped down the hole, smacking into stuff along the way. I shook my head and went in, before some other weird thing happened.

Underground, it was a lot bigger than I thought it would be. There was this long tunnel that curved and twisted and made it hard to navigate. Fortunately, there were no forks in the path, so you couldn't get lost. Just confused and maybe a little dizzy. It was dark, too, so I had to turn my thermal vision back on just so I could get around. That didn't bother me so much; I had been expecting it to be dark.

I don't know how long I followed that tunnel, occasionally crashing into stuff, before it finally opened. It was a really long time. Anyway, once I reached the end, I was greeted by this really intense light coming from a mouth-like opening. I switched to normal vision and eagerly went in.

The room was a heck of a lot _bigger_ than I thought it would be. Though, I guess I should've expected it, considering how many minicons were supposed to be coming. (All of them.) It was a huge room, with sort of a raised platform in the front center area. There were two tunnels, one to the right and one to the left, that sprawled out from the stage. You wanna know how big this room was? There's something on Earth called a football stadium, if I'm remembering right. Well, the room was around that size. Maybe bigger.

It was _crowded_, too. There were minicons _everywhere_, thousands of them. Most of them were in clusters, talking. I tried to look for Dirge, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

I could tell that Dirge had been telling the truth before; the partner minicons really had shown up. You could tell which ones they were because they were the ones that just couldn't relax.

I don't just mean they were tense or nervous, because pretty much everyone was, I mean they just couldn't stand still. Like, they were the ones that were standing by themselves somewhere, or they were in a group but not really contributing to the conversation. And they were always _fidgeting_ with something, twiddling their hands together, tapping on things, the works. Not even their optics could stay still, they were constantly shifting back and forth, like they were afraid someone was watching them. All had this look that said that they really wanted to be somewhere else, but they had dragged themselves there anyway.

For one femme standing near me, it was especially bad. She had both her hands clasped over her chest, and she looked like she was in a lot of pain. "Hey. Are you okay?" I asked her quietly. By nature, I was pretty antisocial, didn't like to mix with the crowd. But with girls, it was different. I'm pretty sure I'll always have the time to talk to girls.

"N-no," she choked out, "I don't feel… I don't… oh." She doubled over then, gasping. Then, she looked over at me. You could actually see the pain in her optics. "It hurts," she whispered.

"What hurts?" I asked her.

"My spark," she answered, "My whole body. It all hurts. I shouldn't be here! I have to get back…"

She might've turned around and went back right then if I hadn't grabbed her arm. "It'll be okay," I assured her. "Just stay for a second longer. Then, you can leave." She was pretty; I wanted her to stay. If she wasn't, I probably wouldn't have bothered. But in her case…

She nodded and walked back, shuddering a little bit. "High Wire… he said… that he'd be able to fix this. Do you think that… maybe?" She turned and looked at me with hopeful eyes.

"Of course," I told her, "I'm sure if he said he could, then he can." In reality though, I was lying through my face plate. I knew, though no one had told me, that her pain was caused from the servility program that we all have. Some just call it _the bond_. It becomes active when a minicon becomes attached to a bulk. Her pain was probably being caused by being so far from her partner. There wasn't anything any minicon could really do about it. I was feeling pretty irritated. Some jerk High Wire was, playing on people's emotions like that. Okay, so technically that was what I was doing, but still.

She looked at me gratefully, then doubled over again. I transformed, wanting to look around, but there wasn't really much to see. I had lived my whole life pretty much alone, so there was no one I could recognize. Well, except for Dirge, but he was one out of thousands, possibly millions. I felt somewhat irritated again. I _would not_ let it bother me that the only person I could recognize here was someone I had talked to for maybe five minutes.

I cruised away slowly, weaving in and out of people. Their conversations played in my audio sensors. I was waiting to hear something interesting. Maybe something would tell me why I was here. Yeah, that'd be good.

That's when I heard this: "I'm telling you, I saw him! He was HUGE! Even for a decepticon. I thought I was gonna die!"

"Who?" asked a second person.

"Megatron, of course! Who else could I be talking about?"

I stopped short. It wasn't what they were saying that interested me (not that it was boring), but the voice that had shouted. It was a boastful, excited voice. I stared. It could only be the guy who had nearly killed me earlier!

I looked over at him. He was average minicon height, but he had one unusual feature. Most minicons don't have a mouth, but this one didn't even have a _face_. There was a big white plate on the front of his head where his face was supposed to go. On the left side was a small orange circle that may have been an optic, but it was hard to tell.

Still, there was no doubt that this was the same guy. I recognized the pink and orange coloration from before. He wasn't fidgeting or doubled over in pain, the way the femme had been, which meant that he hadn't been captured yet. I was incredulous. (Whoa, big words.) The guy was just so _colorful_. Not only that, but he was _loud_. His very _presence_ seemed to be made of shouting. _Not only that_, but he was also claiming to have actually seen the decepticon leader _in person_. How the frag was he still free? I was baffled.

Meanwhile, the conversation had continued. "You mean you actually _saw_ Megatron?" A third voice had chimed in. It sounded just as baffled as I felt.

"You bet," the orange maniac answered, "I don't think he saw me though, which is a good thing, I guess. The decepticons were in Sector 5 on a raid. At least, I'm pretty sure they were on a raid. There were no autobots around. Actually, there weren't really any minicon villages around either. They must've figured out that they've been abandoned. But they were searching for us all right. They were rooting around and shooting stuff like you wouldn't believe. I almost got hit several times. I tried to high-tail it out of there, but as I turned the corner I almost ran right into him. I knew it had to be him, he fit the description, with those funny horns on his head. I just wasn't expecting him to be so big. Luckily, I didn't cry out or run into him, so he didn't look down. I managed to get out of there pretty much unscathed." He said all this in a rush. You got the feel that he'd been waiting a long time to say this to someone and really wanted to brag about it.

After he was done talking, he shocked all of us and laughed. "It was pretty stupid, now that I think about it," he said, snickering, "He couldn't even see me when I was right under his pointy nose! Unbelievable. Is this really the guy we're supposed to be so scared of?" He laughed some more.

That really made some people mad. I could see it in their eyes. (Except for the third guy, who looked awed.) "You've got some nerve," a fourth voice said angrily, his optics flashing. Literally. "Laughing like that at the source of all our misery." The orange bot didn't say anything, so I couldn't tell what his reaction was. You know, being without a face and all.

"He's lying obviously," The second voice said, "He always does."

Now the orange bot spoke up again. "I never lie," he said stubbornly, "You guys just aren't believing enough. You have to BELIEVE, man," he said, doing a very good imitation of a gospel priest by waving his arms in the air.

Around that time, I transformed so I wouldn't be listening at ground level anymore. Unluckily for me, the transformation sound I produced made everyone look over at where I was. When they did, the orange bot recognized me. "Hey it's Red Guy!" he called cheerily. "C'mon Red Guy. Vouch for me, will ya?"

Everyone turned and looked at me curiously. I felt my cheeks go hot. "Look you," I hissed, "Don't call me 'Red Guy.' It's annoying. Also, I can't really vouch for you because, frankly, I think you are lying!" I stared at him hard, hoping he'd get the message.

He didn't. "Tch," he said, sounding annoyed, but not the way that I was, "Some friend you are." He shook his head back and forth slowly, in mock irritation. "Honestly, minicons these days."

"I _am not_ your friend, you idiot!" I was shouting now. Some people outside of our little circle were starting to look over. I tried to ignore them and continued, "I just met you like, 5 mini-cycles" (roughly ten minutes) "ago, when you _almost killed me,_ you maniac driver!" Out of the minicons who were staring at us, the ones with mouths were starting to grin. I felt embarrassed. I wasn't used to the company of others, and smirking others just made it worse.

The orange bot waved his hand in the air like it wasn't important. "Same thing," he said nonchalantly, "Slag, Red Guy. You sure are uptight."

"I told you not to ca-"

"The name's Blackout," he proclaimed, cutting me off, "And good's got nothing to do with it!" He extended his hand toward me.

I didn't take Blackout's hand. The tone he had used when telling me his name bothered me. He sounded like he was confessing that he was king of Cybertron's moon or something like that. Instead I narrowed my eyes and said, "I didn't ask for your name."

"That's not a problem," he told me, "Because it's free of charge. However, if I have to tell you again, it'll cost ya." He had put his hand back down, but he still sounded just as aggravatingly cheerful as before. "Oh, and for the record," he added, as if in an afterthought, "You're gonna have to give me your name. If you really hate being called Red Guy _that much_, then I'm gonna need something else to call you." He folded his arms and waited.

"My name is Grid-" I said. Realizing my error, I had tried to cut myself off, but I hadn't been quick enough. Now I would pay for it.

"Grid, huh?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. "Seems kinda short, don't it? Can I call you Gridsy?"

"You may not!" I yelled hotly.

"How about Gridrin?"

"How about, 'No'?" I told him. "It's just Grid, slag it!"

"Fine, fine, Gridsy. Whatever flies your ship," he said. Some people were snickering. I prayed to Primus above that the nickname wouldn't stick.

"By the way," I seethed, turning to the second person who had spoken. He was chuckling, but doing his best to hold it in. I tried to ignore it, "What are we here for, exactly?"

The blue minicon I was speaking to widened his optics in surprise. "You mean you don't know?" he asked. I shrugged, meaning to say,_ No. No one ever bothered to tell me. _He stared for a second more, then straightened up.

"Well, if you really don't have a clue, then I'll enlighten you," he said, dramatically. "It is said, that on the day of our birth, you know the one, High Wire received a vision. He saw, in front of him, a strange alien creature the same height and stature as a minicon. It wasn't made of metal, it was made of… something else, I'm not entirely sure. But, it seems this creature was not quite so alien after all. It knew High Wire's name and also seemed to know him personally. It is probable it was some traveler from the future.

"The thing, whatever it was, gave High Wire only one instruction: When the time comes, he must leave Cybertron and meet the creature on some far away planet called… uh… I forgot what it was called, exactly. It starts with an A, I think. But, it doesn't matter. What does matter, is that the time is now. High Wire plans to leave planet Cybertron!" He sounded really excited. I, on the other hand, wasn't quite sure I got it.

"So… what does that have to do with us?" I asked him, confused.

"It means everything!" was his fervent response. (Big words again.) "It's not just High Wire that will go. He plans on bringing EVERYONE with him to this far away planet!"

"Why?" I asked.

"'Why? _Why?_'_ Why not?_ There is nothing for us here, except for terror, and it makes loathsome company. By leaving Cybertron, we forge a new destiny for ourselves! Just think of it! There may be something on that planet, waiting for us. Those aliens may hold the key we need to end this war once and for all! Don't you see? This is a new beginning: The beginning of the end!" He was finished.

I, for one, found his speech to be extremely cheesy, but I was apparently the only one who thought so. Applause erupted when the blue minicon was done speaking. I waited until everyone was done, then spoke up, "Did High Wire actually _tell you _any of that stuff?"

"Well, no," was the sheepish response, "But, I've heard it from others. Everyone has heard, it seems, except for you." He looked at me with folded arms.

I was still skeptical. "That's great and all," I said, "But it seems too far-fetched to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is just like some silly dream. Some crazy hallucination. What if you go through all this trouble to get to this planet, which, by the way, no one knows where it is or how we're going to get there, and we find that _there is no_ planet, and no aliens, and that this whole thing is just some wild delusion? What then?" That was probably the most words I ever said together at one time, and no one seemed to like it. They all looked extremely crestfallen and depressed, their heads bent down. For a second, I was filled with pity. These minicons hadn't isolated themselves like I had. They had been hit much harder by the war. Like the girl I'd seen earlier, they were so willing to believe anything. Poor saps.

Unfortunately, in all the politics, I'd forgotten about Blackout, who was standing right behind me. I forgot him, that is, until I felt a sharp shove in the middle of my back, along with a yell of, "Gridsy, you idiot!"

I fell to the floor, gasping, and looked up to see Blackout standing right over me. He didn't seem to be affected by the sad air that had enveloped everyone else. Instead, he was fiercely determined. "What the pit did I say earlier? I know you were there, and you heard! I'll say it again anyway, since you're such a screwy listener: You gotta BELIEVE if you want to get anything done, man! YOU JUST GOTTA BELIEVE!" He did the priest thing with his arms again.

I'd just about had enough of Blackout and was about to let him have it when we heard another voice, even louder than Blackout's. "Attention," it said, "Can I have your attention please?"

**Author's Notes:**

Hello, again. Sorry this chapter took so long. I would've finished it sooner, but school happened, so I didn't really have the time or energy. But anyway, here's chapter two.

What did you think? Did you like Blackout? I did. Yes, when we say Blackout, we mean "Demolisher's minicon" Blackout. (And in the case you didn't know this, well, now you do.) At this point, though, he hasn't met Demolisher yet. That'll happen later. Oh, and the blue minicon who told Grid about High Wire's "vision" is Incinerator, AKA Blur's minicon. Once again, he hasn't met him yet.

The speech Incinerator gives is intentionally narmish. (Grid himself even remarks that it's "cheesy.") I did that to show Grid's point of view on the whole thing: He thinks it's ridiculous. So if you guys were thinking, "Man, put some cheese on it," I did that on purpose. So HA.

That's pretty much it. Okay, enjoy!

_A shiny nickel for whoever can find the Beast Wars reference!_


	3. Explanation

**Explanation**

Grid

The voice echoed around the whole room, hushing everyone. We all looked around for a second, wondering who had spoken. The voice was loud, but not loud like someone shouting, more like it was speaking through a microphone. I had already gotten up and was still staring like an idiot when I felt Blackout tugging on my arm, shouting, "Hey, hey! Look that way!" and pointing. I shook him off my arm (I still hadn't forgiven him) and looked.

My gaze rested on the stage near the front. It had been empty when I had first arrived, but now three figures were standing there, looking out across the vast crowd. That struck me as weird 'cause I hadn't seen anyone walk up there. The one in the middle seemed to be the one that had been speaking, but it was hard to tell. He was mostly a bluish color, with a white faceplate. The two on his right and left were blue and orange respectively. Those two didn't really do anything, except just stand there at attention. They looked like wingmen, or maybe bodyguards.

Even though they weren't moving, there was some definite personality in their looks. The blue one on the right had a sort of cool confidant look, and the orange one looked solemn and tame. Tamer than the other one anyway. The one in the middle seemed to be their leader.

"Who's that?" I asked. Nobody answered. Everyone was looking around at everyone else, wondering the same thing. It was a couple seconds before somebody, I think it was the minicon who'd been impressed with Blackout earlier, called out, "Hey! I think that's High Wire!"

"What, _him?"_ I asked, astounded, whirling around, "_That's_ the guy we came all this way to see?" I don't what I was expecting, but High Wire looked, there's no really no other way to say it, he looked _normal. Completely normal._ One out of a thousand. He could've been any one of us standing in the crowd.

Meanwhile, the word was getting around. You could tell because of the noise level. Here's how: It rose and fell in direct correlation to the excitement of the crowd. Like, when everyone was standing around wondering who that was, it had drifted to a low murmur. When the news started to spread, the murmur rose to a confused babble of sound. Then, when it finally sank in, there was an explosion of noise and excitement, and suddenly the room was twice as loud as it had been before.

Through it all, you could still here High Wire's voice calling, "Okay, calm down. Hey! Pay attention! I said, 'Quiet!' Hey?" All to no avail.

Finally, he apparently got fed up, and, as we watched with newly boggled optics, the minicons on his left and right lunged straight at him. Where three individuals had been before, there was now one completely different one, around twice the height of an ordinary minicon. "QUIET!" it roared. That shut everybody up instantly.

The big minicon collapsed and High Wire and his gang reappeared. It took me a second to register what I had just seen. High Wire and his team had combined into one! I'd never seen anything like it! Everyone else was just as awed as I was. The once thunderous crowd was now dead silent.

High Wire spoke up again. "Thank you for your attention," he said politely, "Now I… uh, oh this is awkward." He paused. "Oh, isn't this awful? I made you all come all this way, and I don't even know how to begin. Oh, my. Well, could all of you please, ah, sit down?"

There was an awkward shuffling. The whole room seemed to be wondering, _Did he really just say that?_ Finally, reluctantly, people began sinking to the floor. Blackout flopped down right next to me. Apparently, we were supposed to be best buds now. I'd have to correct him on that later.

The pessimist part of my brain was nagging me, saying things like, _This is such a waste of time._ I tried to ignored it.

"Well," High Wire continued, "I suppose the first thing I should do is thank you all for coming. Honestly, I wasn't expecting such a huge turnout. So thank you. Second, to clear things up, yes, I am High Wire, the one who called you all here. I know you've all heard some rumors about me, and I want to tell you all that for the most part, they are completely true. That means you also know the reason you're here.

"But, before I get into that, we have to take care of our rather restless audience." High Wire's white optics swept around the crowd and rested on a few people. I looked over. The group he was looking at was completely made of partner minicons, and they _did_ seem to be having a hard time concentrating. "Some of you, through either skill or cunning or just plain luck, have managed to escape from the onsets of the war," High Wire went on, "Most of us, however have not been so fortunate. To those of you that are bound, doing anything away from your bulk is both physically and mentally difficult. And yet, you all dragged yourselves here anyway. That must've taken a lot of courage, and I congratulate you."

He paused for a second, then continued, "I promised all of you an award if you could come, and I understand that some of you may have come for that reason alone. Well, you shall have it." He turned to the blue minicon on his right. "Um, Grindor, do you have the… _thing _I asked you to get?" The way he said, "thing" got my interest. Whatever Grindor had, it was probably pretty important. I craned forward, straining to see.

"Yes, sir," Grindor answered. As he spoke, he pulled out an object that looked like a small, glowing green key of some sort. I sat back, slightly disappointed.

"Very good," said High Wire. He spoke louder now, "Anyone who has been captured, follow Grindor and Sureshock into the corridor on the right, please." As soon as he said these words, _over half the crowd_ got up and filed out in a huge mass. Grindor and the orange minicon, Sureshock, transformed and sped ahead of everyone. No one in my little group had left. Next to me, I noticed Blackout nodding. He was probably _just so proud_ of himself for escaping. If he had a face, he would've looked smug. I rolled my optics and looked away. I wasn't impressed. After all, I'd escaped, too.

After they were gone, High Wire folded himself down on top of the stage and waited. Chatter started rising around the now dwindling minicons. Blackout was yaking away about something, but I wasn't listening anymore.

Every few minutes, a minicon would fly or drive or whatever out of the right corridor pretty much unchanged, except for one thing: Now they were free.

Free.

It gave everyone quite a scare the first time it happened. A green minicon that had driven away earlier drove out, going faster than when he had gone in. Everyone stood up in utter shock when he entered. Through some sort of freaky sixth sense, we knew he was no longer bound. He was in vehicle mode, so there was no way to tell from his expression or gestures; we just knew somehow. Like, there had been some sort of aura around him before and now it was gone, and everyone noticed. Don't ask me how.

Excitement now reached fever pitch. Everyone was wondering, How? How had this miracle happened? Could it be repeated? Sure enough, soon after the green one came out, a small white plane followed, and he was also free. We were amazed, unbelieving. There was no sound, no flash of light, no nothing to indicate that anything was happening in there, yet here was the proof.

Cheers were erupting, hands being slammed, congratulations being thrown around. I almost got throttled by a very enthusiastic Blackout.

And for the first time, I took in the joyous, hopeful atmosphere around me, and realized what everyone had been hoping for all along. High Wire had told the truth about freeing us, he must've been telling the truth about everything else, too. The spaceship, the aliens, the end of the war, it was all real. It all had happened, or was going to happen. Now, suddenly, some of the doubt started to leave me, and I watched the miracle going on around us, and I believed.

It was probably several hours later that the last minicon was set free, and Grindor and Sureshock returned, their optics lit with triumph. By then, the crowd had swelled to its original enormous size. As soon as the two minicons zipped back up to High Wire's side, he stood up, and the rest of us sat down. The room became silent. We all wanted to hear what would happen next.

"Good work, you two," High Wire said quietly. Neither answered him. He turned and addressed us, "Alright! Now that we're all settled, here's the plan. You all know about the planet I'm hoping to reach, right? Well, we'll need transportation of some sort to get there, obviously. That is why I've called you all here. The fact remains that we desperately need a ship, one huge enough to carry us all. The three of us alone cannot possibly hope to build it ourselves, not if we want to take all of you along. We need your help to build this ship. It will take some time, but if we work together, we will succeed!

"Every day, our people are oppressed and forced into hiding. Megatron is ruthless, and the autobots are hardly better. The war is getting more intense and more violent by the day, and it's through us that this is happening. So, it not only for our sake, but for the sake of the entire planet that we go. I want you all to remember that." The guy was on a roll. High Wire may have had a hard time starting his speech, but once he got going, there was no stopping him.

I looked in Grindor's hand and noticed that he was still holding the key. Only now, it had lost most of its glow. I blinked in puzzlement for a second, then turned my attention back to High Wire.

"In addition to the ship, there is another more pressing matter I have to address," he was saying. We all glanced around at each other, confused. A more pressing matter? What the pit could more pressing than this? "In addition to the war," he began, "We also have an enemy that is, for the moment, entirely our own. His name is Unicron."

_Unicron. Unicron._ Where had I heard that name? It sounded awfully familiar. I'd heard it somewhere before, but where… ? For some reason, I had shuddered when I'd heard it. It meant something bad, I knew that for a fact. Like, the way you know without question that pain is bad, light welcoming, and fuel (food in your case) necessary. From the murmur that rose around me, I could tell I wasn't the only one having this sensation. High Wire was being patient now, and waited for the babble to die down.

"For those of you who are having a hard time recalling, which I guess, would be all of you, allow me to refresh your memory," High Wire offered, "Do you recall perhaps, a darkness? A void? Nothingness? Then, do you remember waking up and truly being born for the first time? Surely you remember that." For a second, nothing came. Then, it all came charging at me in a rush. I did remember! I recalled seeing without really seeing. Feeling nothing, with no will of my own. Then, waking up with no prior warning at all. Waking to total blackness, but finally being able to think and feel for myself.

It was at that moment that I remembered who Unicron was. He was my creator. And not just mine, I realized with shock. He was the creator of every single minicon here. In a sense, I was related to every being present. A startling thought. It only got more startling from there. Unicron was a threat to everyone and everything. He was the Destroyer, the Chaos-Bringer, the one who hoped to bring the whole universe to its knees. And he was perfectly capable of doing all that, too.

I blinked in astonishment. Had all this knowledge really been stored in my head all this time? Where had it been? That memory of being "born," I must've stored I away at some point. Dismissing it as unimportant or maybe too painful. Why had I done that? It wasn't just any memory, it was The Memory. The most important One. How could I have forgotten?

The crowd around me was silent and shaking. They were remembering, too.

High Wire spoke up again, "Now you remember," he said. It wasn't a question. "Unicron is our one true enemy. He feeds off the hatred and fear contained in our souls. Some time in the future, he must be destroyed." There were nods, and muttered agreements everywhere. _Yes, we know who Unicron is, _everyone seemed to be saying. _Yes, we must destroy him._

"Currently we have none of the required means to defeat him," (Groans everywhere), "But we will someday, I promise. Unicron is exceptionally powerful, but we were created from him! We have power too! Once we figure out how to unleash it that is…" His voice trailed away. We were all disappointed, but not totally hopeless. After what had happened with the other minicons, I doubted any of us could ever not believe in High Wire ever again.

"And now," High Wire said, "I have some bad news."

That threw everyone off. After all that had followed, finding out about our creation, how powerful we were, freeing everyone, how could there be _bad news?_ It was completely unorthodox.

"I didn't want to say this until everyone was released and could think straight, but the truth is that… Uh, well… you see…"

"Oh, out with it already," Sureshock finally spoke up, "You might as well tell them. There's no easy way to say it."

High Wire looked downright miserable, but he nodded. "You're right," he sighed. He turned back towards us. "Due to shortages in resources and an, er, obvious time limit, _not everyone will be able to come with us._"

This statement spilled all over our spirits like black ink. Not everyone could come? How would they decide something like that? Who would get left behind? Chatter and protests rose up from the crowd. Some minicons who had been sitting jumped to their feet to start shouting. This time, High Wire didn't wait for the noise to die down because he knew it probably never would. He raised his voice up to a higher volume and spoke again:

"So! If everyone could remain calm for a second and let me explain," he said, raising his arms in an effort to keep us quiet, "This planet we are going to is completely unknown. Who knows what kind of danger lurks there? Simply getting off Cybertron is a dangerous and difficult feat by itself. This mission will take great courage, which I am convinced you all have. I just want you to keep that in mind. Now could you all sit back down, so we can confront this issue?"

The minicons that had stood up before sank reluctantly back down.

"Listen carefully now," said High Wire, "_Everyone who wishes to stay here on Cybertron, _please stand up." Stunned minicons now filled the room. No one stood. There was murmuring noise as everyone looked at each other, not expecting this. I thought it was kinda clever. See, everyone was expecting him to ask people who wanted _to leave_ Cybertron to stand up. It would've taken courage to stand, sure, but it wouldn't have been so bad. If you stood up, then it showed everyone how brave and awesome you were. You'd be admired. If you didn't stand, well, that wouldn't be a big deal because you'd be on the ground, and no one would be looking at you. There was no shame involved anywhere. I'll admit, if he had done that, there was a chance that maybe, _just maybe_, I would've remained sitting. It did sound kinda dangerous.

But, by asking people who wanted _to stay_ to stand, High Wire had played a different game entirely. Anyone could admit they were brave, probably, but it takes a lot of bravery to admit that you have none. Bravery that said cowardly people don't have. And by doing this, High Wire proved that he sincerely and deeply regretted the "lack of resources" and he did want as many people as possible to come. He seemed relived by the apparent lack of takers.

Finally, after a long silence, one minicon rose to his feat. He was quiet and solemn as he did. It seemed like he had stood, not because he really wanted too, but because he figured someone had to do it, and better him than anyone else. High Wire nodded at the mech's sacrifice.

Gradually, others followed suit. One minicon after the other rose shakily to his/her feet, deciding to bar themselves from hope for the sake of others. I noticed one bright yellow minicon near the front start to stand up, but some sitting next to him tugged on his arm and made him sit back down. On the other end of the scale, a purple jet stood up more hastily than the others, and he only did so after five other people had stood up first. I had a feeling his intentions weren't quite as pure as everyone else's.

Despite all this, the overwhelming majority still remained on the floor. This was the one chance to change everything, and no one wanted to give it up. High Wire's optics were sparkling. Even so, he still had to ask, "Is there really no one else? Anyone?"

Nobody took up the offer. I did one quick sweep of the room with my optics. Everyone still sitting down was looking at the floor, slightly ashamed. Except for one, and he was staring at me.

The minicon in question was sitting a couple rows away, closer to the back than we were. He was bulky, his face an ugly sick green color with a white body. His optics were weird looking, one was red and normal, the other looked like a binocular lens or something. He had a very war-torn look, like an army general or something.

The look he was giving me was weirding me out too. It was like… what's a good description? Oh, here's one. Like, when you're reading a murder mystery, and they've just revealed who the murderer is. And you're shocked, but not really because you sort of saw it coming all along, you just didn't know it. It's kind of an, _Oh, I should've seen that coming,_ look.

When he caught me staring back, his look turned hard and angry. I turned away, mildly creeped out. Blackout noticed. "What's with you?" he asked.

"Nothing," I told him flatly, "It's all good." In an atmosphere like this, it was kind of easy to forget about it anyway, which I was in the process of doing.

Meanwhile, High Wire was chatting with Grindor and Sureshock in a low voice, too low for us to hear. All three of them had a different expression on their face plates. Grindor had a skeptical look, Sureshock looked worried, but still solemn as ever, and High Wire had an earnest, pleading face. It was all too easy to guess what they were talking about. When they had finished, High Wire turned back toward us. It appeared he had won the debate, for he said, "Okay, here's how this will work. It's extraordinary that so many of you would be willing to risk your lives and accompany us, and I'm proud of you. The rest of you, well, I'm proud of you too. I understand the sacrifice you all must be making to remain here. It's a very hard thing to do. Your sacrifice is very helpful and shall be honored.

"However, there isn't quite enough of you. More minicons than originally anticipated will depart with us, so we'll have to work twice as hard to gather supplies. And we'll have to cram the ship a little; it'll be a tight squeeze. And… oh! We'll all need to be on strict rations. Yes, even myself. I can't afford to make exceptions or show any favoritism. Those of you who are staying, I expect you to help us too. Please, we need you. Also, I understand there are minicons who have been captured by autobots, and some by decepticons. Some of you may have strong feelings about the side you wound up on. I urge you, please do not take any sides in_ their_ conflict. For if you do, the rage and destruction will only grow worse, and our enemy will grow stronger. Remember: We are all brothers working toward a common goal! Are there any questions? No? If not, then could you Sparkplug and uh… Leader-1, could you come with me please? We have some things to discuss."

The yellow minicon I'd seen earlier and another white minicon with an alt-mode similar to Blackout's both transformed and navigated through the crowd to the stage. High Wire started to turn away, then suddenly turned back, as if he had an afterthought. "Oh, one more thing. You may spend the night here if you wish. There's a fueling station through the right corridor. That is all. Dismissed."

There was cheering everywhere. Some people even saluted. Blackout, without even asking permission, reached over and started throttling me again out of sheer joy. I took in the atmosphere feeling pretty good, but at the same time wondering what the slag I'd just gotten myself into.

**Author's Notes:**

They just keep getting longer don't they? Oh, yes.

If you can't tell already, this fan fic is going to be rather long. That's how I right. Deal. Believe it or not, I actually cut some stuff to make this take up less room. For real.

The green key that Grindor has is not meant to be the Master Key. This fan fic is in no way related to the Linkage comics or anything. While this might be loosely inspired by Linkage, this is strictly cartoon continuity only. Sorry guys.

To Mars fans, don't fret! I'm still working on my first fan fic. I've already started the next chapter in that one. It's dead or anything; calm down. I promised I'd see this thing to the end, and I will. It's just… I'm more interested in this right now. I'm sick of writing someone else's words; I wanna do my own thing.

Oh, and how does Grid know about murder mysteries? He… he _researched_ them online. Yeah, that's it.

Anyway, enjoy.


	4. Work

**Work**

Grid

"Yo! Sleepy head! Hey? Wake up!"

Someone was shouting at me, but I was too far gone to respond. Still groggy, I rolled over and ignored whoever was yelling. Since I lived, and therefore slept, alone, the part of my CPU that was somewhat awake thought it was a little strange that someone should be waking me up. Something important had happened yesterday, I remembered that much. But what?...

"Ah, it's not working. Man, how much oil did this guy drink, anyway?"

"Too much, apparently."

I heard (as if over the phone, I was so far gone) someone else walk in the sleeping quarters. "Hey, hey! What goes on? Why's everyone standing around? If there's a party, you should've invited me!"

The conscious part of me groaned. That tone, that arrogant attitude. It could only be…

"Blackout! Thank goodness," someone said. "It's this minicon; he won't wake up! We've been trying to get him up for megacycles! _Megacycles!_"

"Easy, easy," said Blackout, full of himself as always. "Let me see." There were more footsteps now, and they were coming closer. There were also shifting noises. Apparently, a small group was gathered around me, waiting to see what would happen. "Why, it's Gridsy!" Blackout shouted gaily, "Gridsy, you son of a gun, if you're this wasted after a little social gathering, whatd'ya gonna do after a real party, eh?" he said. Louder than necessary, I thought.

My fists clenched. Even half-awake like I was, Blackout could still annoy the heck out of me.

"Here. This'll get him up," Blackout said confidently, "Everybody stand back!"

Everyone cleared the area. Before I could process what was happening, I heard a strangely familiar humming sound, followed by a loud CRACK. Only blasters make a sound like that! _Blackout had shot at me!_ And it was fraggin' loud! I sat up right away. "WHAT THE- OW!" I yelled. (The "ow" wasn't because Blackout had hit me; it was because I sat up too far and hit my head on the bunk above.) The people around me gasped, shocked and angry that someone had dared to use a weapon in the sleeping quarters.

Only, turns out Blackout hadn't shot at me, per se. He'd hit the ground under my bunk. Even so, I was still unnerved enough, and ticked off enough, that I was ready to throttle him. Which I did.

"You… idiot…!" I hissed, shaking him back and forth.

"Grid, you're up!" he managed to choke out, despite his near-strangulation, "Aw, Gridrin, I didn't know you'd be this happy to see me!"

"DIE!" I shouted. It took a couple of seconds (and a couple of people) to pull me off of the slagging idiot. By then, the other minicons had gotten over the shock and were now _praising _Blackout. There were cries of, "Hey, it worked!... How did you know?... Genius!" and so forth. I sat back on the bunk, doing my best to scowl without a mouth. Sure, his little trick had worked; I was wide awake now. Whatever. That didn't mean it wasn't still stupid.

Last night had ended on a positive note. We'd been treated to sort of a buffet of oil. _A lot_ of oil. I have no clue where they got enough oil to refuel thousands of minicons from, but hey. I'm not questioning it. The way I see it, all's fair in war.

Anyway, afterwards we were assigned sleeping quarters for, well, sleeping. There were five of them, and they all had a pretty nice setup to be perfectly honest. The sleeping areas were huge rooms with flat metal slabs for bunks lining every wall. That might not sound very good to you, but we're robots and don't suffer back pains for lying on a flat surface. We don't need mattresses. (Seriously, how do you humans hurt yourselves by _lying down?_ It doesn't make any sense at all.) The bunks were in even rows pretty close together. Close enough for me to hit my head when sitting up. These rows literally reached all the way to the ceiling. There was a ladder that reached halfway up. Only halfway, see, because from the halfway point up, all the bunks were for minicons that could fly. The ladder was for the convenience of us ground dwellers. I never had to use it, as my bunk was on the very bottom.

Blackout still was under the assumption that I was his new best buddy. Last night, he'd followed me _everywhere,_ and wouldn't leave me alone. How nauseating. I'd tried to tell him, subtly, that I wasn't interested, but I don't think he got the message. Thank Primus that he'd been assigned to a different sleeping room than me, or I might have gone ahead and shot myself. (Or him.) What he was doing in here now, I had no idea.

I waited for everyone to stop before I asked "What's going on?" I asked, ticked, "Why are you all up so early?"

Everyone's attention snapped to me in a weird way. Like, they just now remembered I was here. One of them spoke. "Oh, Gridsy!..."

"Don't call me that!"

"Eh… Grid. Sorry," he apologized quickly. "_We're_ not up early, _you're_ up late. You missed roll call."

That got my attention. "Roll call?" I asked. They all nodded.

"How can there be a _roll call_?" I pointed out, "They'd have to have a list with all our names."

"But they do," the speaker said earnestly.

"What."

"It's true!" he said. Everyone nodded in agreement. "They've got one. All the leaders, anyway. We all saw them."

"No kidding," chimed in someone else, "I don't even think High Wire even needs one." He waited for the audience's surprised reaction before he continued. "Like, I went up to him last night to ask him a question, (I don't even remember what it was now) and he just looked at me for a second. So I said, 'Oh, sorry. You don't even know who I am do you?' And he's all like, 'No, no, I know you. You're Hal.' And you know what? He was right. It was really weird."

"Oh, yeah," piped up someone in the back, "Sky-byte said the same thing happened to him..." Everyone started chattering excitingly. Again. As for me, I was still astounded.

"But where… how?..." I stuttered, "There's _thousands_ of us! How could they…"

"I don't know. It's a mystery."

There was a solemn pause after that statement. Apparently everyone could just accept mysteries and be totally fine. How naïve.

"So," I said, changing the subject, "I missed roll call. Then what happened?"

Blackout, who had been nodding smugly to himself the whole time, took his turn to speak up. "Well after that, they started giving people work assignments."

"Oh, right," I said, "Work." I'd forgotten about the working part. I groaned and flopped back on the bunk. I'd never been one for work. As soon as I lay down, though, I had fifty people pulling on me and trying to get me back up again. So I sat up and asked, "What kind of work are we getting?"

"Right now, it's mostly about gathering supplies and stuff like that. More oil or more tools or more metal or whatever. Then there's a patrol group, you know, to watch the area. Oh! And there's a raiding team!"

"Raiding team?" I asked. "What do they do?" I would've guessed find supplies, but Blackout had mentioned that already. What else was there to raid?

The answer was one I didn't want to hear: "They steal weapons from the decepticon camp."

I stared. If I had had a mouth, it would be gaping. "They WHAT?" That was beyond suicidal, in my opinion. Actually, no. Not in _my_ opinion. In _everyone's_ opinion. What were they thinking?

Someone else, the first person that had spoke, cut in hastily before Blackout could respond. "It's not like that," he said quickly, waving his hands back and forth, "They do it without being seen or anything. And they don't only take weapons. The camps are the best places to get any kind of supplies, really. And even if they weren't, weapons are really important. The raiding team also has to distract the autobots and decepticons so they don't suspect we're here."

"That still sounds really dangerous," I muttered.

Blackout wouldn't let himself be interrupted this time. "Oh, it is!" he said excitedly. "You could like, _die_ out there! You really could! High Wire said so!" He wasn't really using the correct tone of voice here. He was talking about dying the way you might talk about a birthday party or something. "That's why only really the tough bots could go. I'd hate to be the sap who ruined the whole mission for everyone."

I had a gut feeling about who that would be.

"So…" I began, "What are your jobs?"

"We don't have one yet," Hal answered. "That's why we're all in here. We're waiting for when they're ready for us."

Blackout just couldn't shut up could he? No he couldn't. "I wanted to be on the raiding team," he whined, "But, Sureshock told me I wasn't ready. He said I was loud and an idiot, and I might get everyone killed." He sniffed, as if some part of this reasoning was unfair. "It is _so_ untrue!"

Fortunately, I was spared from having to reply. For at that moment, the intercom crackled. "Attention," it hissed, "Anyone who hasn't been given an assignment yet, please report to the left corridor immediately. Thank you." The voice sounded like it belonged to a femme, but I didn't recognize it.

"Speak of the devil, as they say," I muttered. "Might as well go I guess," I added. I stood up and stretched. Then, I filed out after everyone else; they were already leaving. I guess I wasn't going fast enough because I felt a shove from behind and below. It was Blackout, in vehicle mode. "C'mon Gridsy!" he urged, like a five year old. "You're gonna be late again!"

We all zipped, flew, rolled, whatever, out in a large moving mass like ants. Down the hall, out the right corridor, across the stage room and into the left hall on the other side. It was a long trek. As we were going down the left hall, we were stopped by a minicon shouting, "Hold it!"

The minicon in question wasn't particularly extraordinary looking, around average size. You'd think that one lone minicon wouldn't be enough to hold up dozens of others in their steady march, but they all stopped anyway. I think it was because of his voice. It wasn't particularly deep or anything; he just had a really commanding sort of voice that made you shut up and sit up straight. I craned over the heads of the mass, and I could see the bot standing in front of everyone with his arms held out in front of him. And I recognized him as Leader-1, the bot High Wire had wanted to speak to last night.

I don't know if anyone else recognized him, but they all listened when he spoke up. "Everyone, please follow me," he said. He led us down a doorway to the right. Inside, there was a plain white room with nothing in it. No, really. There was absolutely _nothing_ in there. It was just a big long room of… nothing. Leader-1 didn't give us much time to wonder about it, either. "All of you line up," he ordered.

There was a couple seconds of scrambling around before we managed to get into rows of ten. While we did, Leader-1 just waited. Impatiently. He was tapping his foot the entire time we scrambled around. Every inch of him seemed to be asking, _Will you hurry up already?_ I felt like telling him, "Keep your hood on! We're going as fast as we can!" But I thought better of it.

I ended up being the first person in the first row. I don't even know how that _happened._ I mean, I was in the _very back._ Weird how that works sometimes.

After we had lined up (with me in the front. Seriously, _how _did that happen?), Leader-1 pulled a digital screen out of his chest compartment and looked at it. Then he looked up at us. "Well," he said, "I'll cut the small talk and get right down to it. I'm Leader-1, and I'll be giving you your assignment today. Now, everyone seems to be accounted for. Except…" He let his voice trail off as we walked to the front of the line where I was (seriously) and looked up at me, his finger resting on the screen.

"I don't recall seeing you this morning," he said addressing me, "Did you sign in?" He had some unusual optics on him. They were yellow and looked more like a pair of goggles or sunglasses instead of eyes. Even so, he still managed to make me feel like I was being x-rayed. "Uh," I stalled, uncertain, "I didn't… I mean… I didn't…"

He looked at his screen again, I could tell from here that it was a list, and nodded like this made perfect sense. "Oh, so you're Grid," he said, "Heh, finally decided to get up this morning, eh?" Even though he had a mouth plate, like I did, I could still hear the grin in his voice. A couple of people in line laughed. I felt my face get all hot. Why wouldn't they get off my back already?

Of course, Blackout couldn't miss the opportunity to make things worse. "You can call him 'Gridsy' 'sarge!" he shouted from the back, like a five year old.

I whirled around. "Why don't you just shut up!?" I screeched. That just made everyone laugh harder. Leader-1 chuckled quietly. "You can be Gridsy, if you really prefer that," he offered.

"Never," I hissed. I pronounced each syllable separately, _nev-er,_ to make sure he got it.

He chuckled again. "Ease up, soldier," he said, "Just a little fun. Now Grid, do you have any experience in the field of mechanics?"

"Uh…" I stuttered. I should've been able to answer right away. What I should've been able to say was, "No. No I don't. Never once in my life have I touched a wrench," but it didn't happen. For some reason, my head froze up for a second and I lost my train of thought. I think it was because he called me "soldier." No one had ever called me "soldier" before in my entire life. It was usually "punk" or "thief." That level of respect wasn't something I was used to.

Finally, I managed a, "No, no sir." Whoa. Where did the "sir" come from?

He only nodded. "That's fine. You're not alone there," he said. Then he spoke louder, addressing everyone. "Pay attention," he called, pointing behind him, "Behind that door there is where you'll be working for today." I stared. The large white door blended in perfectly with the wall. I hadn't seen it earlier. "In there," he continued, "You'll be getting your assignment. Elita will be your instructor for today. She's… ah… a very close friend of mine, so anyone who shows just a little inattentiveness will have to answer to _me._"

We all laughed at that. Leader-1 waited a moment before saying, "I'm dead serious." Everyone immediately stopped laughing. _This guy has quite a presence,_ I remember thinking. Yet, I also noticed that there was a sort of tired, worn out air about him, in everything he said and every move he made. It even showed in his optics a little.

There was an awkward three second pause where everyone just stood around in silence, waiting for further instructions. Finally, Leader-1 piped up, "Well? There's the door. What are you people waiting for?"

We assumed that was our cue to leave, so we streamed through into the next room.

Primus, what a sight.

We walked into a MASSIVE hangar. Like, _way_ bigger than the room we had just come out of, bigger than the room where the meeting had been held, even. But, that's not what I was looking at. I didn't even notice the size of the room until later. We were all too busy ogling at what was _in_ it. There was an enormous frame made out of really shiny metal, like it had been polished right before we came in. The frame was in the shape of a ship, (I figured it was _the ship_) and it went up to the ceiling and nearly reached every wall. On the wall on its left, there was a large screen with a glowing blueprint on it. We all ooed and awed at this impressive setup.

Standing near where the bottom of the hull would go, there was a femme who I guessed was Elita. It was a different femme than the one I had talked to the day before, but she wasn't too hard on the optics either. Her armor was colored in patches of white and pink. Not much of a face, except for two white optics. She seemed real nice, real quiet. I like that in a girl.

I quickly zipped over to where she was. I was the first one there, too. Apparently, everyone else was too busy staring at the enormous (seriously, it was huge) frame to see her. It didn't surprise me that I was the first one to notice. Being a thief tends to make you really observant.

Anyway, pretty soon everyone else caught on, and the mass moved over to where Elita was standing. She waited patiently until we all got there before she started to speak. Unlike Leader-1, who would've been shouting at us to hurry up the whole time.

"Um, hello everyone!" she called. "I guess you know this from Leader-1 already, but I'm Elita." She had one of those really sweet, girly girl voices that makes mechs stare and other femmes gag. I was liking her more and more. "Looks like everybody's here," she continued, "Your task for today will be to continue construction on this ship."

We all gazed up at the titanic ship slowly. I guess it should've been obvious what we were supposed to do, but we were still daunted by the task. The sheer size of the frame would've astounded an ordinary sized autobot, and we were minicons. I'd never felt smaller than when I gazed up at that ship.

"You've got to be kidding me!" someone shouted, "How exactly are we supposed to do that?"

"Ah," Elita stammered, clearly distressed, "Now there's no need to panic. We wouldn't ask you to build the entire ship in one day! That's entirely unreasonable. For now, you'll just be covering the frame from the outside."

"With _this_ tiny group?" the same guy snapped. The group did seem kind of small. Out of the thousands of minicons that I knew must be here, only an incredibly small fraction of them were present.

"Well…" she said, choosing her words carefully, "The thing is.. we're kind of low on supplies right now. Most of the others are out gathering building materials right now."

_The raiding team, _I thought eerily. _They_ were the ones "gathering materials." I was sure of it.

"Don't worry, though," Elita had continued, "Once we have enough supplies, the construction team, that's you, will get a lot bigger. Trust me."

A thought occurred to me just then. I hadn't filled up my fuel tank since the night before, and a Cybertronian day is longer than an Earth one. "Hey," I interjected, "Where can a guy get a little breakfast around here, huh?"

Elita laughed. She didn't giggle, which is what you'd expect from a girl with the kind of voice she had. She just laughed. "I'm afraid the rest of us already had breakfast," she said, good naturedly, "You'll just have to wait 'til tonight."

"Great," I mumbled. It wasn't the fact that I would be low on fuel that was bothering me, (I was used to going days without any) but the fact that I had missed out on a free meal. Typical.

Elita sympathized. "Aw, it's okay Grid," she said, gently, "Just get up earlier, okay?"

Several people starting making cat-calling noises after this remark. (I'm almost positive Blackout was among them, but it wasn't just him.) I didn't mind at all, but Elita got a little uncomfortable. "Er…" she said, flustered, "How about I just give out your assignments, okay? Now, there's metal plates at several different locations throughout the room. Flying minicons will be working at the top of the structure. The plates are kind of big, so you'll have to work in pairs. Blackout, you'll work with Inferno. Spiral, you're with Backtrack. Hal…"

I stopped listening and slunk away. The talk was getting boring. No one noticed my leaving, anyway. Pairs of minicons were starting to drift away, so I just went with them.

Sure I had never worked before, and I hadn't waited for a partner, but I figured it wasn't a problem. After all, how hard could work be?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Instead of the usual, "OMG LOOK HOW LONG," comment that I usually make, I'm just gonna say that this chapter is pretty much self-explanatory. More exciting things will happen in the future, I promise. I'm just having difficulty getting the ball rolling, is all.

Yes, that's right, I named minicons after Elita One, Hal, and Sky-byte. _I don't even _like _RiD, and I named a minicon after Sky-byte. _All you RiD fans ought to feel pretty grateful right about now.

Oh, and I didn't make up Spiral or Backtrack. They're real minicons from the actual show. (So are Leader-1, Blackout, and Grid, but I'm not here to talk about them. They're main characters.) If you can name which episode Spiral is in off the top of your head, consider yourself a nerd of the first-degree.

And… that's it. Enjoy.


	5. Stick

**Stick**

Okay, work could be totally hard. Shut up.

I stationed myself at a space in the corner of the room, forsaken by everyone else. Just like Elita had said, there were supplies everywhere, including the spot where I was. Not far from where I had stopped, there were two piles of sheet metal, a couple of those torch things, some tubes of… something, I don't know, and a box of cutting tools. All of it was conveniently minicon size.

It was when I reached the pile that my first wave of real panic hit. I had completely forgotten I was supposed to be doing. _What was it again?_ I stalled in my head. _Uh… It was uh…_

Oh, wait. I know now. We were covering the ship's frame. Yeah, that was it. With the sheet metal. Uh huh. In a state of epiphany, (wipe that smirk off your face) I picked up a sheet. It was brilliant white color. Shiny, too. It was also lighter than I thought it would be. Or maybe I was just stronger than I thought I would be. One of those.

The sheet I'd picked up was about 18 gauge, maybe about an inch or so thick. (I'm trying to use Earth measurements here.) The silver plate was pretty big, too, over half my height if I laid it down horizontally. I saw now why Elita thought we should have partners; I needed two hands to carry one sheet. Great. I guessed I'd just have to carry the sheets over one at a time then.

Rolling my optics, I grudgingly dragged the sheet over to a spot where no one was working and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. Then I went to get another one. And another. And another. And ten more. That task took over half an hour by itself.

It took me another half hour to transport the rest of the stuff over where I was. After I got at least one of everything over there, I sat down and stared up at the frame, daunted. The task seemed impossible. I had no clue how to do this. The worst part was that the ship skeleton was see-through, and I could actually see the other minicons working. Have you ever not known what you were doing, but everyone else seems to have it down? It makes you feel pretty dumb.

At one point, I'm pretty sure I caught one guy staring at me with this "Why are you just standing there? Get to work," look on his face. But, maybe I'm just being paranoid.

When I got tired of just standing around, I picked a sheet of metal off the top of my makeshift stack and dragged it to the frame. The frame was round, curving steadily up, and the sheet was completely smooth and flat. It showed, too. The sides of the frame followed the sheet at first, then they curved steadily upward and away. The ship would end up looking as cruddy as a rag doll if I stuck the piece on like that. I supposed that the first thing to do was to bend the sheet.

To do that, I set the sheet on the floor, put my foot on top to steady it, and then used my bare hands to pull it upward. (I'm a robot, so I can get away with this.) I kept pulling until the curve looked just right. I put it up against the frame to check. Lucky me, it was a perfect fit.

Now how to put the curved plate on the frame? I picked up a blowtorch and tried to make the two pieces stick that way, but the frame's melting point was too high, higher than the melting temperature of the sheet metal, and the end of the sheet ended up just melting all over the frame and looking gross. I ripped the melted metal off, disgusted. Now I had a melty, gross plate that looked fine on one end and like candle wax on the other. Sick.

I used my buzz saw to sheer off the melted side and then sat down and paused for a second, puzzled. While I was sitting, I accidentally put my hand down on one of the tubes of stuff with a little more force than I wanted. The tube was made out of really soft and mediocre material, and it tore open. Inside was a really thick syrup-colored gel. So, I ended up sitting there with this gross yellow liquid oozing over my servos. I could actually feel it getting into the cogs and gears, clogging them up. Sickened, I got up and tried to wipe my hand off on the nearby wall. (As big as the room was, the frame was just as big, and the two were closer together than you might think. It wasn't a place for claustrophobic people.)

I'd gotten about halfway down the wall when I felt my hand slow to a crawl and stop. I couldn't move my hand off the wall. No, I wasn't paralyzed. Don't get me wrong. The rest of my body could still move. I was just stuck. That's when I realized, _Oh, it's sticky. _Perfect.

After a few seconds of tugging, a managed to pull my hand off the wall, so now I had both my hands back. Only, one of them was covered with the yellow sticky ooze like some kind of weird glove. I felt my right hand turn numb and stiff. I groaned. Some people just have the worst luck, and, unfortunately, I'm one of them.

Anyway, I went to go get another "tube of stick" and squeezed it, gently this time, over one of the beams. Then, I picked up a plate and placed it over the yellow snail-like trail I traced. It stuck right away. I actually grinned slightly then. It felt good to actually get something done.

I spent the next two hours or so repeating the process. Bend, fold, stick, cut, bend again, fold again. It was tedious work, but I was making progress. The walls of the would-be ship slowly got wider and higher.

I discovered something while I was working. I actually had a real knack for this. Don't laugh; I'm not being sarcastic. Even though I had some trouble starting, once I figured out what I was doing, it was a breeze. I just instinctively knew where each plate was supposed to go, exactly how much it needed to be bent, and whether the plate was too large or small. Eventually, I fell into a steady, mind-numbing rhythm. Oh sure, I was moving slower than everyone else, my wall climbing up more sluggishly. I blamed that on my "gloved" right hand, which could barely move at all.

Okay, I confess. That's not the only reason I was going slower than everyone else. I was also working in a group of one, and they were all in groups of two. That was not helping my speed any. What? Don't give me that look. I'm not stupid. I know working in groups is more efficient and more meaningful and blah, blah, blah whatever. I get it. It's just… the thing is, my whole life, all the people I've ever encountered have been in two categories. "Me" and "Them." It doesn't take a genius to figure who is classified as "Me." The downside to that is everyone I've ever met is in the "Them" category. Maybe being a thief is the cause, or maybe it's the effect, but the fact remains. I don't want to get too mixed up with other people. It's just too awkward. Especially now, now that I've stolen from them.

See, it's that too. Something High Wire had said earlier was weirding me out. What was the line again? Oh yeah, "We are all brothers, working together for the common goal." That sentence made me feel, there's no other way to say this, _guilty. _Because it's technically true; we were all created by the same demonic, ungodly force. It also means I've been stealing from my brothers my entire life. I'd felt little pangs of guilt before, but now that I was here, the feeling was only growing stronger. Call me a sap, call me a pansy, call me whatever you want. I'm just trying to be honest here.

So that's why I was working alone. Working like this was kinda nice, sort of a relief. But it was boring, too. Maybe if there was a way to make this a little more interesting…

"Hello Grid! How's it coming?"

Impeccable timing.

At the sound of my name, I looked up. And there, standing in front of me was Elita.

Just Elita.

And me.

_Alone. _

Okay, I know I just got through saying I didn't want to get mixed in too tightly with other people. _Buuuut,_ I figured I could make exceptions. "Mixing in" with Elita could be survivable. Oh, yes.

When I didn't respond to her question, she tried again. "I said, 'How's it coming?'"

I still didn't respond. I was too busy staring at her to say anything.

"Uh, Grid?" she asked, a frown in her voice.

I continued to stare. Finally, I answered, "Oh! It's coming great. Yeah. Real great. Fantastic, even."

"Excellent," she said, sweetly. That seemed to be her default tone: sweetly. "Glad to hear it." There was a moment of silence then. I was sitting on the floor, and she was standing when she walked up to me, and I didn't miss the awkwardness of the situation. There were a few more seconds of silence before her optics swiveled down to my right. "What's that on your hand?" she asked, sounding curious.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, whipping my gooey, gloved hand out of sight as I spoke. Not quickly enough. She noticed.

""Got stuck in the glue, did you?" she laughed, "It's okay. It happens all the time."

"Glue?" I asked, holding my hand in front of me. "Is_ that_ what this is?"

"Here," she said, gesturing to me. I stood up and walked over to where she was. I stretched out my hand, thinking that she was going to apply some sort of cleaning substance on it. She didn't. Instead, she… she _picked up my hand _and started to actually _peel _the dried coat of "glue" off. It came off in thick, yellowish sections that reminded me of the sheet metal. Normally, I would've been grossed out, but now, the only thing I could focus on was, _She's touching my hand. She's touching my hand. Oh, Primus, let this last._ I kept repeating that in my head over and over, like song lyrics.

"There you go," she said when she was done. "Your hand will still be a little stiff, so you'll have to get it cleaned in the med bay today. But you're okay with that, right?"

I looked up and quickly answered, "Oh, yeah. It's totally okay. Really." _Primus, why can't I shut up?_

"So, I as I was saying, we didn't really break even with the number of workers," she said. For some reason, she sounded a little embarrassed. "I really would've waited like everyone else. You see, I was supposed to be your partner."

_Why, why, why_ hadn't I waited for a partner!? What's _wrong_ with me!? Am I _dumb!?_

Out loud, I said, "Great. Thanks. I could really use some help."

Elita's eyes took on a kind of smiling quality. "Perfect! Where do you want me to start?"

"Just, uh, over there… somewhere… is okay with me," I stuttered, handing her a plate. She grabbed one end, and I grabbed the other, and we hoisted that thing up in no time. "Sorry about the glue," she was apologizing as we worked, "It was Sureshock's idea. It's only temporary until we can weld the armor together."

"Uh-huh," I said casually.

"Don't feel bad about getting stuck. It's happening to a lot of people. You aren't alone, you know," she continued innocently.

"So who set this whole place up anyway?" I asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

"High Wire's team," she answered.

"And who else?" I asked.

"Just them," was the response. The completely outrageous response.

"Just _them?"_ I repeated dumbly, "By _themselves?"_

"Yes. Sureshock, Grindor, and High Wire constructed this entire frame all by themselves," she said, "It was really quite a feat."

"Wow," I said, looking up. The ship, the whole room, never seemed more immense than in that instant. "That's impressive," I understated.

"It certainly is," she said, "The three of them make quite a team, and High Wire is an amazing leader. He'll never admit it, of course, but he is."

Even I, Pessimist Prime, had to agree with that. Not just anyone could've rallied us together and inspired everyone like High Wire had done the night before. It took someone unique to do something like that.

"What about the tunnels?" I asked.

"Those were already here," she explained, "The minicons didn't build them. They weren't intended for us."

"They do seem kinda big," I commented. My second big understatement of the day. Above us, the flying minicons were working on the higher points of the ship. I estimated them to be about fifty feet up, and they weren't even touching the ceiling. With the exception of the tunnel I used when I first came here, pretty much the whole complex was scaled that way.

"These tunnels were put here by the autobots," she went on, "They wanted to use it as a base. The decepticons had the advantage in the air, so the autobots figured that they could find an advantage in the ground. So, they began construction on an underground maze of sorts. But the project was scrapped before they could finish."

"How convenient for us," I said.

"All High Wire's team really did was build the entrance," Elita continued, "Sparkplug helped them call everyone together, just a little."

"Wait a second," I said, turning to her suddenly, "Just Sparkplug? What about Leader-1? Didn't he help?" The night before, High Wire had wanted to speak to Sparkplug_ and_ Leader-1. It occurred to me that it was a little weird for High Wire to want to speak to both of them if only one of them had done the work.

Elita's optics changed after I said that. They suddenly had a layer of depth to them that made her seem older, somehow, more weary. I was reminded of the tired look Leader-1 had earlier. _I'm tired,_ it seemed to say, _I'm so tired. I just want it to be over. I don't want this anymore._ "Oh, he was busy with something else," Elita said softly. She was trying to mask it, but her tone matched her eyes almost perfectly.

"Busy?" I asked, noticing the change, "With what? Hiding?"

"Did you hear about the battle at Vector?" she asked, suddenly, changing the subject, "I heard it was pretty intense…"

We stayed like that for hours, just chatting. Elita is really easy to talk to. Or listen to, I guess. She did most of the talking. All I needed to do was throw in some, "Uh huh"s or a couple of "interesting"s, and she was satisfied. I had a feeling we would get along just fine.

Unfortunately, what happened next cut my… er… _plans _short. We had been working for, I don't know… three hours, when I heard a voice call, "Hey there! Getting along alright, are we?" We turned and looked. It was Leader-1 himself, standing with his hands behind his back looking very professional. Neither of us had seen him coming. The guy looked better than the last time I'd seen him, hours before. For some reason, his tiredness was… not really gone, just less visible. I didn't think much of it, until I caught sight of Elita. Her optics lit up when she saw him. Not literally, but in the way you humans use that phrase when talking about your eyes. The way you look when you're _really, really, really_ happy to see someone. I also heard her say, in this sweet, honey-filled tone:

"Oh, Leader-1! Hi!"

That's when it clicked for me. I looked on, horrified, as the plain awful truth came to me. In my head, I replayed her sweet tone, one that she had never used on me (and never would), and an earlier memory, one of Leader-1. _"Elita will be your instructor for today. She's… ah… a very close friend of mine…"_ Close friend my aft! I know a relationship when I see one! Those two were sparkmates! Fragging sparkmates! _Aw, slag, _I recited in my head, _Slagging slag. Fraggit. Son-of-a-glitch. Fixer bug._ (I really need to watch my language around you kids.)

I was also smart enough to realize, with a creepy feeling of strange relief, what would've happened if I _had_ made my move on Elita. No doubt

Leader-1 would've unleashed his wrath upon me. I'm not sure how I knew this, maybe through some freaky minicon sixth sense or something, but I had a good feeling Leader-1 was perfectly capable of slagging my aft.

Still, I couldn't help but feeling a tiny bit ticked.

You think I got jealous? No, I'm not the type who gets jealous. (Though I was disappointed.) I know there are plenty of other girls out there, no big deal. But man, I can't ever catch a break. Not even once.

"Hello Elita," said Leader-1 warmly (gag,) "I see you're making progress." He turned to me and nodded once. "Grid," he acknowledged. He paused a second, than said, "What happened to your hand?"

I held up my still stiff, slightly yellow stained hand and shrugged. "Glue," I answered, trying to keep it cool.

"Ah," was the answer, "I see."

There was a really awkward pause after that. A heavy silence drifted over us like mist. Around us, you could hear chatting, tinkering, and other big-open-room noises, but I think this only contributed to the awkwardness of the whole situation.

It was Leader-1 who finally decided to break the ice. "It's enormous," he muttered, looking up at the ship, "We're going to be here for _months."_

He sounded a little downcast. Elita spoke up softly, "I'm sorry, Leader-1, but we really can't rush this. Remember, this ship has to get _all of us_ out. And…" he optics traveled up the side of the frame and back down before she added, almost sheepishly, "We are making progress."

"Incredibly slow progress," he complained, looking down. Is it just me, or was Leader-1 _pouting?_

Elita noticed, too. "Why don't you go find something productive to do?" she asked, "I mean, I'm going to be busy here for a while. And, let's face it, construction had never been your specialty…"

That set him off. "You think I don't know how to put walls together?!" he snapped. He immediately stomped over and snatched a tube of glue off the ground. I was unfortunate enough to be holding a sheet of metal at this point, and in a flash of white mechanics and a shout of, "Give me that!" it was out of my grasp and with Leader-1. Who, by the way, was using _one hand_ to hold it up. In what seemed like one movement, it was so fast, he squeezed the tube with his hand hard enough to break it open, smeared the contents, glue, container, and all, over one side of the ship, and smacked on the metal sheet as it was with his other hand. After that, he just stood there, holding the metal up, with his back hunched up defiantly. While he was standing there, Elita and I exchanged a… not so much as nervous glance. More like an _"okaaaaaay…."_ kind of glance.

For a second, the sloppily put together wall appeared to be holding up. Then, the plate started to slide down, making a really disgusting oozing noise as it did. Some of the glue came out from behind the metal, and I could actually see the bits of tubing and what looked like the broken fragments of the cap. Leader-1 didn't move for a moment. Then we heard him ask, without looking up, "…It's crooked, isn't it?"

It was. Among other things.

At last, he straightened up as if nothing had happened. "I'll just, patrol around the perimeter, then," he said coolly.

"Alright," said Elita, "I'll see you around."

He nodded once, then quickly transformed. Then, with me still watching, he drove over toward Elita, and stopped near her, close enough for her to reach out and touch him if she wanted. Then he just hovered there in vehicle mode for a second, not saying a word, before he started off again.

But get this: As he was driving away, he swerved around. "Oh, and Grid?" he asked. I waited. "You're doing an excellent job, soldier. Keep up the good work."

I blinked. Soldier, again. Not knowing what else to say, I blurted, "Uh, thank you very much, sir." As I said this, I pulled up my hand in a that second, the corniness of the whole thing occurred to me, but Leader-1 didn't comment. He just drove away.

After he left, I turned around in time to see Elita grab a torch and head over to the ruined wall. She didn't comment on anything, either, so I only waited a short second before asking, "So. You and Leader-1, huh?"

She dropped the torch. I leaned against the ship as she turned around and faced me wide-eyed. I watched it settle in. When it finally did, her eyes shrank to their normal size and she arched her head down. "Is it really that obvious?" she asked quietly. I nodded.

"Ah, I'm sorry," she said. She picked up the torch. It flickered to life. "We were trying to act casual, but I guess we failed." Her voice got quieter. "I hope we didn't embarrass you."

"Not at all," I said, lying a little., "It's completely fine. Really." If I'd had teeth, they would've been clenched. _You're not jealous,_ I reminded myself, _You're not jealous. Get over yourself._

Elita held the torch up to the littered glue. It started to melt, dripping down the side again. She pulled off the plate, strands of yellow still stuck to it like spider threads. I observed all this from behind, frowning. (Or trying my best to. No mouth, remember.) "He's not very good at this, is he?" I asked, with just a touch of sarcasm, "Even I did better."

"Yes, well…" she didn't hesitate in her work as she spoke, "It's not really his fault he's… uh… _challenged_ in that field." The glue was running freely now. "You see, there are two classifications of minicon. There are worker minicons and soldier minicons. I'm a worker. Judging by the way you adapted to your assignment so well, I'd guess that you're a worker."

"Oh," I said, crestfallen. Me being a worker wasn't a horrible shock. I mean, really, do I seem like the soldier type? But it was still a little disappointing to hear it said out loud. I sighed and gazed down.

"Leader-1, on the other hand, is a soldier," Elita continued, "His specialty has always been warfare. Battle. You know, soldier stuff." Her gaze traveled down to the torch in her hand, which was no longer lit. "He's never been very good at fixing things," she murmured.

"Yeah," I said, "Just breaking them."

I'd blurted it without thinking. Elita suddenly grew very still. She said nothing. It occurred to me that I might've made a mistake. The glue on the wall of the ship was starting to cool. It was trickling down slower now. Finally she said softly, "He's not a bad person. He's _not."_

"Okay," I said awkwardly, trying to fix my slip-up, "I'm sure he is. You don't have to tell me that. I know." I kept looking down at the floor, then I snapped up, trying to act more cheerful. "Although, he can be kinda impatient," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "And he seemed really desperate to get out of here, too. Even more so than the rest of us."

The glue on the ship was completely cool now. It was barely moving at all. Elita stood with her head bowed, saying nothing. The tired look was back.

"Elita?"

Nothing.

My tone was no longer light. "Why is that, Elita?"

The glue stopped moving. It was completely hard. Elita's quiet, yet determined expression reminded me a little of Dirge.

There was more silence. Finally Elita spoke: "I…"

But I didn't get to hear what she was about to say. At that moment a loud clanging noise resounded throughout the hangar. Both Elita and I started and looked in the direction the sound had come from. Near the front of the ship, it was. It didn't sound like the normal "Oops, I dropped it" clang. It was a very heavy metal on metal sound that struck me as something… wrong. Something not allowed. Around us, people were gasping, dropping their tools, running. I swore I heard shouts. I started running, too. "I'm going to check it out!" I yelled.

"Grid! Wait a minute!" she shouted, concern in her voice.

"I'll be fine," I shouted back, not stopping, "I just want to check it out!"

Elita hung back and stopped shouting. She wasn't going to follow. I transformed without hesitating and went on, toward the front of the ship, where the sound had come from.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Can you say, UNREVEAL? I can!

I can also say MOOD WHIPLASH.

I was originally going to write the contents of this chapter and the next one together in one big chronicle, but this chapter proved to be way to long to attempt such a thing, so I decided to split them into two.

Most of the dialogue in this chapter is stuff I came up with on the spot. Including the explanation for where the neat-o base came from. Which is weird because I normally plan scenes in advance. My original plan was for Elita and Grid to chat about plot irrelevant things until Leader-1 showed up, BUT THAT'S NOT THE WAY THE COOKIE CRUMBLES.

Also "Pessimist Prime" was originally going to be "Mr. Pessimist." But then I thought, transformers don't really use "Mister" that much. Maybe I should have Grid write something that they'd actually say. Hence, Pessimist Prime.

The glue gradually slowing down to a stop is supposed to be a metaphor. I've got another nickel for anyone who can figure out what it's supposed to represent.

On a completely unrelated note, Happy Holidays, freaks! Whether you celebrate Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, or none of the above, it doesn't matter! May your holiday season be sprinkled with gifts, and candy, and family, and love, and hugs, and whatever you normally do during the winter months.

LOVE AND PEACE.


	6. Blaze

**Blaze**

I kept going, driving towards the front. It wasn't too hard. Everyone around me was running in the same direction. I noticed I wasn't the only one in vehicle mode.

I kept hearing angry, no, _furious_ shouts the whole way there. They were all pretty loud and all seemed to be coming from the same person. I couldn't make out what he was saying, though, because of the noise the other minicons were making. They were shouting, too, but it was a different kind of shouting. There was like this panicked, murmuring noise flowing through the hangar. The way it echoed around kind of reminds me of the surface of boiling water. I didn't get it at the time, but now I realize that it was the sound of dozens of people all saying, _No, don't! _all at the same time.

I wasn't fast enough to beat the rush. When I arrived, there was already a large crowd, making a perfect wall around the scene of… whatever had happened. I tried to maneuver in between people's legs in car mode. When that didn't work, I transformed up and tried to weave my way through the crowd that way. When _that_ didn't work, I used some good old-fashioned _shoving_ to get people out of the way. And it worked, sorta. There was the nasty side effect that some people I shoved tended to shove me right back, but I got through!

I'm kind of wishing I hadn't.

When I finally got up there, it took me a second to see exactly what was going on because the minicons had given such a wide berth around the place. My optics had to swivel around for a second before I saw. And what did I see?

Blackout. I saw Blackout, that's what. For a second, the excitement in me kind of died down. I figured it would be just like Blackout to start a huge commotion like this out of nothing. I was about to turn away, but then something struck me as really odd.

For starters, Blackout wasn't standing up in that usual arrogant way of his. He was on the ground, that's right, on the ground, clutching at his faceplate. His hand was covering up the entire left side of his face, so I couldn't see what the trouble was about. My interest perked back up.

Oh, and there was someone else inside the ring of witnesses, too.

He was standing with his back to me, facing Blackout. I knew it was a "He" because of the voice, but even if I hadn't heard, I would've suspected that the minicon was a mech because there's just no way any femme could be _that_ ugly. The other minicon was bulky and clumsy looking, but tough, too. His whole person seemed to emit this don't-mess-with-me field.

Something about this guy was bugging me. I felt like I had seen him somewhere before. Recently, too. But where?

With all of us looking on, the tough looking bot kept shouting. Actually, it was more like screaming. And Blackout was the unlucky recipient of this verbal abuse. He was saying, angrily, that Blackout was an idiot, a total glitch head, had the attention span of a sparkling, and was a completely worthless piece of junk. To be fair, you don't really have to be high-strung at all to lose your temper with Blackout, and I might've said some of the same things that this guy was saying now. Just, not quite so loudly or in quite so many words.

During the scene, the throng around us kept growing. Just like humans, minicons are attracted to fights and violence, but not for the same reason. When humans gather at a fight scene, they're there because they want to see the fight. With very few exceptions, most just want a brawl to start so they can watch. They hurry and run because they don't want to miss out. With minicons, though, it's different. We're not running because we want to be entertained. We go because we're concerned. We hope that maybe there's something we can do to prevent it. We're hoping we'll miss out. With all the things that make us similar, I think that's what really separates us from you.

Blackout, meanwhile, wasn't really responding to any of this. He just stayed put, crouched over with his hand covering his face protectively. People were muttering and even questioning each other. The words were all the same. "What's going on?" "Why isn't he moving?" "He can't do that." "Why doesn't that guy say something?" "I think there's something wrong with him." (Note: Everyone was asking why Blackout wasn't doing anything, but they weren't exactly being helpful, either.)

Then, as if he had rehearsed it, Blackout lifted his hand from his face and looked up.

There was a big, collective gasp that came from all around. Wanna know why? _Do you wanna know why?_ The _entire_ left side of Blackout's face was dented in, that's why. The puncture in his head was incredibly narrow and sloped into the gears underneath the armor. It was a really deep dent, too, like a crater. The metal around the rim of it had a weird wrinkled look, almost like paper. The little orange circle, which, I could see, definitely _was_ an optic, was on that side, curved in along with the rest of his face. Luckily, it was still in one piece, but it was flickering. On, off, on, off.

Obviously, this was no working accident, I could see that, too. Only, something precise and traveling at high speed could produce a wound like that.

Well, at least that explains the clanging noise.

There was an immediate uproar. Everyone was shouting angrily. The ring that had formed around the scene shrank as people clambered closer. Above the clamor, I heard a femme's voice, not Elita's, shout, "What the slag is wrong with you, Inferno? What'd he do?"

So that was his name.

Inferno swung around to address the speaker. "Anyone would've done the same if they'd been working with this fragger!" he snapped. I still didn't get a very good look at his face, but I did catch a glimpse of one binocular-like optic as he turned. The déjà vu feeling got stronger. Inferno kept speaking, "I shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Everyone else does!" I yelled.

The moment I said that, several pairs of optics swiveled toward me. Inferno started, turned towards me, and glared. I was a little taken aback. Have you ever been in a crowd situation where everyone was yelling, and you were yelling, too? Except, you didn't think anyone would hear you in the crowd, and you were yelling just because you feel like you should? And then, you were surprised when someone did hear you and respond? That was what was happening to me now.

I was obviously supposed to go on, so I did. "I think," I started, "I speak for everyone here when I say that Blackout is the single biggest idiot I have ever seen. Everyone else has had to talk to him, and they all agree." I stepped out of the protective ring and into the arena, confidence building. "You, on the other hand, are the only one who decided that it was okay to just deck him." I snorted, feeling cocky. "That's not very impressive now is it?"

The crowd reaction to that was positive. People were… not really cheering. More like they were agreeing. I heard murmurs of approval ripple throughout the mass. It felt good.

Blackout, who still hadn't said a thing, finally looked up at the sound of my voice. He seemed to perk up almost instantly. "Hey…!" he said groggily. Then he picked up volume. "Hey, hey Gridsy! Hey, what's up, buddy?..." He sounded weird, like he was lightheaded or something. While he was talking, he held up his arm and waved clumsily. I got the feeling he couldn't see very well with his flickering optic because he wasn't really looking at me. Or waving at me, for that matter. Just waving at my general direction. Apparently, he'd been off in La-la Land for the past ten minutes.

Inferno had only turned his head slightly before, but now he whirled around to face me. I'll be honest, I was slightly intimidated, but I supposed that it could be worse. At least we were the same height. That's something. "Look, you," he growled, "I really don't care-"

He cut himself off then, and looked at me with an expression of surprise. I guess it's a good thing he didn't finish because I had stopped listening anyway. I was distracted by a minor flashback. I'd just remembered where I'd seen the guy before.

It had been just last night, in the enormous auditorium. I remembered, suddenly, the guy sitting several rows away. The guy who had been staring daggers into me.

That same exact guy was standing in front of me now.

"You!" he snapped.

"Hey!" I shouted at the same time, "You're that guy! From last night. You were staring at me."

Those words must've sounded ridiculous to everyone else, and I even caught a few of them giving each other looks. Even Blackout, in his confused state, picked up on the cheesiness. "Staring?" he said vaguely, rocking himself, "Aw, Inferno, you're such a gawker." Then he turned to me, sounding creepily cheerful, "Gridrin, you should've told me you had a _sparkmate."_

"Shut up, Blackout!" I snapped. I was not in the mood for this.

Inferno shot Blackout a venomous look, but he didn't add anything. Right now, his focus seemed to be entirely on me. Joy. "Just last night?" he asked quizzically, referring to my earlier statement, "You don't remember me from before that?"

"No."

"You're sure?" he inquired. There was a bitter, mocking tone in his voice I was starting to pick up on.

"Uh, should I have?" was my answer. I was starting to feel weirded out again. (No one around had moved, by the way. I guess they wanted to see what would happen next.)

He snorted disdainfully and continued. "Well, it shouldn't surprise me that you just decide to rob and run without even knowing who it is you're robbing from. And it also shouldn't be that a lowly _thief_ is telling me how I should behave."

I started violently, shaken to the core. I felt as though I just taken a blaster at point blank range. The reason for the stares, for all the hate, had just walked right up to me and slapped me across the face. "W-what?" I stammered, starting to feel numb.

"Don't give me that slag," Inferno spat, "You're a thief and a pariah. And a cowardly one at that."

At this point, I could've done several things. I could've denied it, I could've apologized, I could've done _something._ But I made one, extremely painful mistake. (And I'm still kicking myself for it.) To put it simply, I didn't do any of the above. Here's what said:

"Hey! Keep your mouth shut."

Many exclamations from the now not-so-enthusiastic-crowd. My moment of glory? Over.

I realized the error as I was making it. Isn't that the worst? When you realize you shouldn't say something _as_ you are starting to say it? I'd tried to cut myself off, but all in vain. I suddenly became conscious of the large group of minicons on all sides of me. I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I wanted to turn invisible, to grow wings and fly away, to combust, _anything,_ _anything at all_ that would spare me from this! But of course, nothing happened, so I stayed.

Inferno's eyes took on a look of sadistic pleasure. The image that comes to mind is a cat playing with a mouse. A thieving, cowardly pariah of a mouse. "Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized sarcastically, "I didn't know it was a _secret!"_

"Well, yeah. Kinda!" I said foolishly. Another error. You may have noticed at this point; I have a real problem with blurting things without thinking. But I can't help it; it _was_ a secret. It's not like I was going to tell anybody! The only reason I felt okay when talking to Elita, Leader-1, or even Blackout is because I thought that no one could've ever caught me! I thought for sure I was untouchable. _That's_ why I let Dirge talk me into coming here! _That's _why I thought I could help build the ship! _That's_ why I thought I could go away to some happy little planet and leave all this behind me! _Because no one knew!_ But now my secret, my skeleton, was out there, in the open for all to see! And, obviously, I wasn't quite as untouchable as I had thought because I had been caught! Twice. First by Inferno, then Dirge!

Now there was a different train of thought entirely. First I find Dirge, now Inferno! How many other people had seen me? A lot? A little? The room seemed to be spinning. For a second, I thought I was going to blow a gasket. My thoughts continued to race, getting more and more ridiculous. Was I well known? Was I a wanted criminal? Was my cover blown? Were they gonna make me stay on Cybetron? Were they gonna throw me to the decepticons?

I found it hard to bring myself to focus on the minicon standing before me now. Disjointed and dizzy I stuttered, "How did… How did you see-?"

"It wasn't difficult," Inferno went on, "I caught you running off on my security camera."

"Camera?" I asked, dazed, "A security camera? Seriously? No one uses those anymore!" At this point, I was a little less than coherent, in case you haven't noticed. I even laughed a little at the end of that last sentence, which is a guaranteed way of making it sound like you have a screw loose. Drunkenly, I turned and started shouting at people, "Am I right? Huh? About the cameras? Does anyone have a camera here? Anyone?" Even then, I could tell I was freaking people out. A few of them started backing away slowly. "C'mon? Anyone got a camera?"

"I do!"

"Shut up, Blackout!"

"Shortly after that," Inferno continued, ignoring my rambling, "My ship was _mysteriously _destroyed." He eyed me and folded both his arms across his chest plate. Confused as I was, I still didn't miss the sarcastic way he stressed the word, "mysteriously." "Don't tell me you're a thief _and_ a vandal!" he spat.

If a correct accusation can send you spiraling away into space, a false one can bring you speeding right back. "Now, wait a minute!" I suddenly shouted, my head clear again, "I didn't do _that! That_ wasn't me!"

"Oh, come on," Inferno said, "Do you really think I'm that gullible? That I would honestly believe that you _just happened_ to rob my ship, and then three days later, it _just happens_ to explode? And you had nothing to do with it? What kind of _idiot_ do you take me for!?"

"I'm telling you, _it was not me!"_ I yelled. "It-it must've been the decepticons!" I said suddenly, as the theory came to me, "That's gotta be it! No one else has the tools or the motive to do something like that! I mean, sure I probably took some barrels of oil from you ship, but I didn't blow it up! What kind of _jerk_ do you think I am?"

"Why should I believe that?"

"You really think someone who just confessed to being a thief would try to cover _this_ up?" I retorted. I stopped and sighed for a minute, suddenly feeling drained. My voice dropped a few decibels. "Why can't you just let it go?"

I knew that he wouldn't, of course, I just wanted to say that. Kind of like when you argue with somebody. You don't really expect them to change their mind; you just want to hurt them. After I'd spoken, I waited for the inevitable response.

"I might consider it," he pretended to ponder, tapping his chin, "That is, if you return what you stole from me." He folded his arms again. He waited.

I reached up to scratch my head, frowning. "Well, that might be difficult," I said, "Because, uh, the thing is… I kind of… sort of… drank it all already. So, if you want it back, I'll have to-"

"Okay, okay I've heard enough," Inferno cut in, waving his hand. I guess I was going a little too far there. Then, he placed that hand on his forehead, frowning for a second. Apparently, he was getting worn out too. Suddenly, he put his hand down and glanced up. There was a cold look in his eye that didn't match the fiery, sadistic face he was wearing earlier. "So, you can't replace what you took from me, you can't undo what you've done, and you're asking me to forgive you anyway?"

"Yeah," I sighed, knowing I couldn't win, "That's right."

"Brothers," Inferno called, rising his voice to the crowd, "No doubt you've noticed your possessions and resources have gone missing. Well, here is the culprit! I say that we hurry up and get him out of here before temptation gets the best of him."

"Hey!" I snapped, pointing, "Don't you use that slag on me!" I turned to the crowd, ticked off. "Are you people forgetting that this guy just smacked one of his _brothers_ just a few minutes ago? That's the whole reason we all came over here in the first place!" Maybe I was wrong to yell at the crowd, but I had just about had it. If I was really going to have to stomach that "brothers" line and get preached to about my criminal problems, it was not going to be from some hypocrite! A dirty, stinkin', holier-than-thou thug of a hypocrite at that! Who did this guy think he was anyway!

The members of the crowd were looking at each other and murmuring, and I could tell most of them were agreeing with me. Robbery was one thing, but punching out a guy just because he's annoying? That just won't work.

Inferno eyed the crowd warily before he went on. "Perhaps," he said slowly, thinking out what he was going to say. He paused for a half-second before his eyes lit up suddenly and he went on, "But that doesn't change the fact that you're a delinquent. How do we know you're not going to do something… suspicious?"

"Because I've given it up!" I shouted.

There was a hush in the crowd after that. Everyone was staring at me expectantly now. And at that moment, right after I'd said it, I realized I was right. I'd never voiced the fact out loud to myself, much less anyone else, but I knew it was true. I was done stealing. I had no need of it now. Now that I was in this big place with all these resources and protection. I'd never liked being a thief. It wasn't something I did for fun; it was something I did to survive. Because I felt like I needed to. But now that I was here, with all these resources, with all this protection, with all this _hope,_ I no longer had that need. And, there was a moral reason, too. If I had stolen while I was here, I don't think I'd ever be able to look into Elita or Leader-1's eyes ever again. I guess, I was just sick of stealing, sick of hiding, sick of the war, sick of everything. I turned to the crowd again, "Yeah, you heard me," I said, loudly, "I've given up being a thief. I'm quitting. I'm done. I'm… retiring, as they say. My criminal career is over." Somehow, I felt better saying that out loud. The crowd seemed somewhat satisfied.

But Inferno still wasn't. "Really?" he asked sarcastically, "Congratulations… But if you don't mind me asking, for long have you been _retired,_ as it were? How long has it been since the last time you stole?"

My eyes widened. I hadn't been prepared for that question. "…Two days," I murmured shamefacedly. Once again, I knew I was saying the wrong thing. But this time, not only was this the wrong thing to say, it was also unavoidable because it was the truth. It had really been two days since the last time I'd stolen Actually, even _that_ was kind of pushing it. The last time I'd stolen was right before I ran into Dirge, and that wasn't really two days ago. More like one and a half days ago. But, it was pretty close to the truth. I'd had to choose between honesty and winning the fight with Inferno, and I had chosen honesty.

I really am completely stupid.

Inferno's expression changed back to that cat-like look he'd had earlier. "Two whole days," he said mockingly, "Incredible. Must be a new record." He didn't pause in his words, so I didn't get a chance to counter that crack with some sort of banter. You could practically hear the venom dripping from his tone. "How do we know you won't suffer a relapse, hm?"

"That's enough."

The calm, yet commanding voice made us all look up. It was Leader-1, who apparently been standing there the whole time without anyone noticing. As soon as the crowd realized he was here, however, they immediately split to form a path for him to walk through. As soon as they did, he walked through them toward us. "That's quite enough, Inferno," he repeated, "You come with me. You're in a lot of trouble."

I waited for him to say, "You too, Grid," but it didn't happen. I couldn't believe my luck. (Especially since luck hates me.) Inferno was staring, "Just me?" he asked, incredulous, "Why not him?"

"He didn't punch anyone," said Leader-1 frankly, "That kind of violence won't be tolerated around here. Now hurry up."

"But, he-"

"He did nothing. Not since coming here anyway. All our supplies are present and accounted for. As far as I care, he's innocent. Now for the last time, hurry up! I don't wanna have to hold your hand the whole way," Leader-1 stated, looking quite annoyed.

Inferno snorted and looked away. "I just don't think it's the best idea to keep a criminal in here, is all," he said, coldly.

"That's it," said Leader-1. He reached over and grabbed Inferno's shoulder roughly and started to drag him away by force. Inferno didn't offer much resistance, but he was still going on. "I recognized him before anyone else here," he was muttering, "I knew."

"Yes, yes I heard," Leader-1 told him flatly, "You're very intelligent. Now be quiet." As they were walking away, I shot him a grateful glance. He nodded in my direction and continued.

When he reached the edge of his own personal Red Sea, he stopped and turned to a femme standing nearby. "Spiral," he began, "Could you go and get the medic for that guy over there?" He gestured to Blackout. "He needs one pretty badly. I think he's starting to hallucinate."

She nodded and ran off. Leader-1 turned to the crowd. "As for the rest of you, unless you happen to be working in this exact spot, I don't want to see anyone standing around here!" he snapped, "There's work to be done, and every nanoclick you speed being useless is a nanoclick the ship spends not being built! Now get lost!"

Well, Leader-1 still had Inferno by the shoulder, and to be honest, he looked kind of scary. Nobody bothered (or dared) to question him, and the crowd quickly dispersed. I stayed near where Blackout was to wait for the medic.

I didn't have to wait very long before he showed up. In no time, a blue crane with a toolbox came speeding over to where we were. "I got here as soon as I could," he said, transforming. He had red visor optics, a little bit like Leader-1.

Blackout gazed up slowly. His optic flickered. At first, I thought he had turned into a vegetable again, but then he giddily waved at the medic. "Heya, Longarm! It's a good thing you showed up. There are like, colorful dots dancing around everywhere, and I don't think there should be," he said cheerily. He pointed to his bashed-in face. "I got banged up again," he announced, sounding very proud of himself.

Longarm sighed and shook his head slowly. He sat down and pulled something out of the toolbox. "I know, Blackout," he said. He was using a voice that sounded like it was _trying_ to be patient, but it ended up just sounding tired. "Spiral told me everything." After he said that, he glanced up and looked at me searchingly. Something about that gaze made me a little uncomfortable. I got the feeling that the "everything" Spiral told him about didn't just include what happened to Blackout.

I tried to ignore that. "You two know each other?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

Longarm nodded. "Oh, yes," he said, "We've met. This one here is always getting injured. I swear."

"You mean you've gotten punched before?" I asked, surprised. (But not terribly.)

"Not very often," Blackout answered, sounding mellow, "But yeah, it's happened before."

"And you also manage to banged up in countless other ways, as well," Longarm muttered, "It seems I'm always repairing your aft. I swear, sometimes it felt like you were actually_ following_ me around."

So living with a personality like Blackout's had drawbacks after all. It didn't really surprise me he got injured so often, what with his reckless streak and all. When I thought about it was kind of cool and kind of stupid at the same time. Cool that he could take hit after hit like that and still live it up, but stupid because, no matter what, it seemed like he would never learn his lesson. I shook my head. I sort of half-admired… and half-pitied him.

"Is there anything I could do?" I asked, out of goodwill. (Take note.)

"No, no thank you," Longarm replied. "As a matter of fact, I'd prefer it if you left."

"Aw, come on," I said, "There's gotta be something I can do."

"No, there really isn't anything. Please leave." For some reason, Longarm sounded slightly agitated, which struck me as weird.

"Are you sure?" I asked. I reached for the toolbox.

In one fluid movement, Longarm smacked my hand and swept the box out of my reach. "Keep your sticky paws off my tools," he said, his voice hard.

"_Excuse me?" _I asked, offended. For a second, I didn't get it. I just sat there slowly rubbing my hand, perplexed. Then it started to dawn on me. Longarm's hard, suspicious tone, that "sticky paws" comment, the fact that everyone now knew I was, used to be, a thief, it was all sweeping over me like a tide. I heard Inferno's voice in my head, _"How do we know you won't suffer a relapse?"…_

I felt myself spinning off into orbit again. I couldn't think properly. Everything that had just happened was starting to sink again, and I had no base to keep myself from crumbling. I stood up shakily. "I… I think I'll get back to work now," I stammered, dazed.

"Alright then," Longarm said. He was now doing something to Blackout's optic and didn't look up.

"Bye Gridsy!" shouted Blackout, still oblivious.

I walked away slowly at first, slightly dizzy. Then I started to run. I started running faster, sprinting almost. I ran like Megatron himself was after me. When it occurred to me that I wasn't going at top speed, I transformed and drove as fast as I could. I'm still amazed that I didn't hit anyone, I was going so fast. To this day, I don't fully understand what possessed to me to flee like that. I wasn't really thinking clearly. I was only focused on one thought, _I have to move. Have to get out of here. I have to find some air…_

When I finally got back to Elita, I felt more than a little drained. I transformed and tiredly walked up to her. She was sitting on the floor, waiting for me to come back, and she snapped up once she saw me approaching. "Grid!" she called, concern in her voice, "What happened back there?" So she didn't know yet. Good.

I looked up at her, hearing her question but not really understanding it. The way I stared blankly sort of reminds me of the way a zombie is supposed to look. Without answering her, I turned and looked to the side. There were two other minicons working a distance from us in the direction I gazed. Except, they weren't really working. They were whispering to each other and staring at me. Once they caught me looking back, they quickly turned away.

I sighed. "You'll find out pretty soon," I said, answering her question. I had no doubt that it was true. I didn't have the spark to tell her myself.

I remember work going by much slower after that.

**Author's Notes:**

Kind of a downer. I'm sorry, you guys.

Okay, introducing Inferno is the hardest thing I have had to do in writing so far. It wasn't the actual act that was so hard, I had pretty much mapped out what I wanted him to say, it was actually finding a place to do it that was difficult.

Inferno just did not want to be introduced. I was originally gonna bring him out in chapter 2, that's right, 2. But, there was no room. So I thought I'd introduce him in chapter 3. Then 5. But that chapter ended up being way too long, so I had to cut it in half and introduce him in chapter 6.

Thus, this is a classic example of things dragging out way longer than I predicted they would. Woe.

This chapter also introduces Longarm. But he's a far more minor character and no one cares about him anyway.

Since I first mentioned Inferno's name back in chapter 4, and we're just now finding out how important he is, I guess that makes him a Chekhov's Gunman. Sorta.

Those of you who have read "Mars" might recognize Grid's line about needing air. Using the same line for two different characters was an intentional move. You'll find out why later.

That's it. Wait eagerly for the next chapter!


	7. Know

**Know**

They say a person can get used to anything.

Well, that might be true, but what they _don't_ tell you is how fragging long it takes. All day, I'd had to endure all kinds of stares and whispers, and it still never failed to make me feel uncomfortable. Like there were ants marching down my back.

Fortunately, (or maybe unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) nobody said anything to Elita. She was kept in the dark the rest of the day. 'Course, she was smart enough to know something was up. For one thing, I wasn't nearly as animated as before. Earlier, I had been chatting and commenting on whatever Elita said eagerly, but after the thing with Inferno, I only nodded and muttered to anything she said, looking down the whole time. I realize now what an angsty mess I must've been.

Also, the staring thing wasn't helping either. The groups around us had developed this habit of staring at me and whispering to each other. But whenever Elita or me looked up, they'd jump like the guilty little children they were and look away. Elita noticed that, too and looked at me with a questioning expression. Once or twice, she even asked me what the deal was. "Grid, what's going on? What happened?" I'd always give her the same response:

"I don't want to talk about it."

Meanwhile, Blackout had been taken to some sort of clinic place by Longarm and hadn't come back out yet. I realized that the worst damage must've been in his CPU rather than his face, like I'd thought. That kind of thing takes a while to repair, so I wasn't expecting him for a while. As for Inferno, I hadn't seen him either. Not since Leader-1 carried him off. Though, I did see Leader-1 once later, driving aimlessly against the wall. I guess he didn't know what to do with himself.

Anyway, after about five centuries (it seemed), the work shift finally ended. We were told, via intercom, to gather in the stage room again for some announcements. So, we put up our crud and drove down there to see what else we'd need to know.

That was where I was now. Standing, by myself of course, and staring up at the stage waiting for someone, probably High Wire, to come up and fill us in. At least, that was my original plan. But I didn't need to stand there long before I heard someone call my name. "Yo, Grid! Over here!" he shouted.

Surprised, I turned and looked in the direction of the voice. It wasn't Blackout waving at me, I could tell that much. It took me a second to recall who this person was, so much had happened today. Oh, yeah, I remembered now. This was Hal, the one I'd talked to this morning. I was slightly puzzled. Why would Hal want to talk to me? I couldn't recall saying much to the guy. He didn't seem hostile, so I doubted he wanted to torment me. After a second's deliberation, I decided, whatever, I might as well head over there and see what he wants.

I walked over. "You talking to me?" I asked.

Hal was grinning. "Know anyone else named Grid?" he asked. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. Get over here."

I stepped into the circle. I say circle because I could see that Hal wasn't alone. Standing next to him was a green minicon I'd never seen before. There were also some others, but they were all talking to each other and didn't see us. Hal pointed to the green guy standing next to him. "This is Backtrack," he said.

I waved half-heartedly. "Hi, Backtrack," I said.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. Obviously, this meeting had not been his idea.

We stood around for a second longer without saying anything, staring at our feet. We were all waiting for someone to break the ice, I think. Finally, I asked, "So, what's this about?"

"We saw the whole thing back there," said Hal, pointing, "And Backtrack and I think it was really cool how you stood up to Inferno like that."

"Yeah," Backtrack cut in, not looking up, "Inferno's a royal jerk."

"And you seemed kind of down standing over there by yourself," added Hal, "So I thought, 'Hey? Why not?'"

"Doesn't it bother you that I'm… that I'm…?"

Hal laughed and waved his hand in the air. "Naw, you seem like an alright guy." Something inside me felt better.

"Besides," Hal went on, "I'm, flat broke anyway." He sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Yup, my pockets are completely empty," Backtrack agreed. For his initially distant exterior, Backtrack seemed to warm up pretty fast. He shot me an impish look. "Too bad. We don't have anything for ya."

I frowned. "Oh, I'm tingling with disappointment," I said coldly.

That got a laugh out of all of us.

We stood there for a while, just chatting. It was kind of nice, especially since I didn't think anyone would want to come near me after what had happened today. These two didn't seem to care about my sleeping criminal tendencies, and, to be honest, their company was just what I needed. I'd gotten kind of used to having company around, what with Blackout constantly following me everywhere. I'll never admit this out loud, but I was getting a little lonely without Blackout. At the very least, he was good for getting my mind off of things, which was something I desperately needed right now. So, I let myself talk with Hal and Backtrack, just to escape my problems for one minute.

As we were talking, out of the corner of my eye I saw the crowd growing steadily bigger. When the Construction Team (us) had arrived, we had been the only ones there. But now minicons were streaming in from the tunnel entrance and being absorbed into the crowd, making it grow larger. The image that comes to mind is water being poured into a bowl.

"Hey look," observed Backtrack, "Looks like they're all coming back now."

"Who?" Hal asked, "Oh, the guys on the other teams?" Obviously, Hal and Backtrack were talking about the other tasks that some of the others had been assigned to. I did feel a slight pang of envy for them. At least they had gotten to go outside.

"Yup," said Backtrack, squinting, "I can see the Patrol Team coming in now. See? There's Sparkplug himself." I looked where Backtrack was pointing and recognized the yellow car from the night before. I remembered what Elita had told me earlier, and I felt a new sense of appreciation. That guy had helped set this whole thing up, after all.

"Hey, wait a minute," I muttered, scanning the crowd, "We're missing some people!"

It was true. While minicons were still coming in from outside, the pour had slowed to a trickle and it was clear that not many more were coming. Even so, the crowd was about a fifth smaller than it had been last night.

Hal nodded like this wasn't a big deal. "Yeah, that would be the Raiding Team. High Wire told us it's a two-day deal. They won't be back 'til tomorrow." I nodded, reassured.

"Of course," he continued, "If tomorrow night, we _still _have people missing, than we should panic." I shuddered, remembering the job the Raiding Team had to do. There was no way infiltrating the decepticon camp could be without risks. What if we really did have people missing tomorrow…

"Have you guys seen Inferno recently?" I asked. The question was out of the blue. It had just now occurred to me that Inferno was also missing. But he had been on the Construction Team. Where was he?

"No," Hal said, "I haven't seen him since earlier."

"Me neither. Maybe Leader-1 killed him, if we're lucky," Backtrack added, smiling mischievously.

We both had to smile at that comment. "Huh, that's weird," I said, grinning, "'Cause I haven't-"

"_GRID-SY!" _

I froze and turned around slowly, like someone who had just discovered that there was a dangerous animal behind him. Blackout was standing a little ways behind us, waving and running at the same time. I groaned out loud. Hey, just because I said I missed him doesn't mean I was going to be glad when he came back. It did not help my situation that Backtrack was jumping up and down, shouting to make sure that he knew exactly where I was.

"Hi guys!" he said, as soon as he came over. I looked down at the floor when he came, trying (in vain) to suppress my temper. "Whatcha doin'? Standing? I like standing. It gets kind of boring though. Doing stuff is better. Oh, hey! I almost forgot about you, Grid! My old pal, Gridsy. My savior, ain't ya? Huh, Gridsy? Old buddy, old friend, old pal of mine!" He said this all very fast.

At this point, my optic was twitching just a little. I turned up to glare at him, or maybe tell him off. "Look, you," I started to mutter, but I stopped. Blackout was right in front of me, and I could see his face pretty well. He looked completely repaired, except for one thing. His optic was _probably_ back in place, but it was impossible to tell because there was a big bandage like a blindfold over it. I have no idea why this was there, maybe to hold his eye in place or protect it or something, but the point is that that was his only optic and with it covered up, he couldn't get any kind of visual reading, thermal or otherwise.

"Wait a cycle," I said, "How did you even find us? You can't see!"

"Don't have to," he said as-a-matter-of-factly, "I've got a radar."

"We all have radar," I reminded him flatly.

"My radar's better than your radar," he bragged insolently.

I scowled, slightly annoyed. Hal and Backtrack's reactions were similar. "And why's that?" I asked, hotly.

"It has a wider range," he said, spreading his arms out, "You know how we all have our own upgrade or power? Well, mine is my radar."

"Wow, that must suck," laughed Backtrack.

Blackout pointed at Backtrack fiercely. (Or, rather, at his general direction. He couldn't see, remember?) "You may scoff now, sir!" he shouted, "But I know where everything in this room is! I mean, I can't see anything, but I know where you are, where you are, Gridsy there," he was pointing at each of us as he was speaking. "Plus, I know where the stage is," he gestured toward it, "Those hallways there," he pointed toward them, "And I know where that femme _waaaaaaay_ over there is. The one's that's helping the dude next to her stand up. He tripped just now because he's a klutz." He pointed towards the enormous crowd.

Surprised, we scanned the crowd, squinting to find her. Remember, this room was huge. Around the same size as a football stadium. It took a lot of scanning and zooming in to locate her, but we eventually did. She and her mate were standing way against the far wall, about as far away from us as it was possible to get here.

We were astounded. "That's amazing!" said Hal, impressed. "No wonder you've only got one optic! That's already more than you need!"

Blackout nodded. "And!" He shouted the word loudly and arrogantly to make sure he had our attention. "I happen to know that Inferno is standing right over there, spying on us."

We all jumped at that. "What!?" we all asked at the same time. Six optics furiously scanned the spot where Blackout was now pointing, but all of them came up short. I stopped, puzzled. There was nobody there. No matter how many times we checked and rechecked, we couldn't see him. He was just, not there. "Where?" Backtrack asked, still looking.

"Right here!" said Blackout. He moved and stood in front of me. His arm was stretched out next to him, gesturing at… nothing. There were about a hundred _other_ people behind him, but no Inferno.

"…Blackout, there's nothing there," I said, frowning. For a second, I thought that Blackout's radar might be malfunctioning. That maybe Longarm had missed a spot in trying to repair him.

"Sure there is!" Blackout insisted. He walked over to a gap in the crowd, not three feet from where he was a second ago. "He's right here!"

At that moment, we all gasped, and here's why. The second he said the words, "He's right here," he reached out and wrapped his arms around the air in a chokehold. At least, it looked like the air, at first. Then, we noticed that Blackout was actually buckling from some kind of weight that was pressing against him. And before we could register what we were seeing, there was a shimmer and bending of light, and Blackout was holding, not the air, but _Inferno._ The realization hit us like lightening. _Inferno could turn invisible._ Several mouths dropped open. The people close by, who had all been preoccupied with their own conversations a second ago, turned and stared, surprised.

Inferno, for his part, was not amused. He kept struggling, and it seemed like he was trying to yell _something,_ but Blackout had him by the throat, so all that came out were hacking sounds. I might've laughed, but I was too busy being shocked (and slightly unnerved.)

"Told 'ya," Blackout said, sounding very proud of himself. He set Inferno down, and jabbed his thumb at him. "Looks like you got a stalker, Gridsy! Oh, I'm jealous." Some of the people near us laughed. I didn't.

Neither did Inferno. He was just standing there with his shoulders hunched. He looked absolutely humiliated. "I'll get you for this," he growled at Blackout.

"Already did, remember?" Blackout replied, gesturing to his bandaged eye. "Now, we're even." I couldn't help but notice that Blackout didn't really sound mad, even though he was talking about getting even. He wasn't too upset about being smacked, either. The tone he used with Inferno gave the impression that they were just buddies who were kidding around with each other. Completely different from Inferno's bitter attitude.

Inferno didn't trouble himself to reply. He just transformed and drove off, going a little faster than was probably necessary. When he was a fair distance away, there was another shimmer of light, and he vanished without a trace.

"Where's he going?" I asked, panicking a little.

"_Waaaaaay_ over there," said Blackout, pointing. "He's getting the heck outta here. Ha! The guy must be embarrassed at being found out. Sure sucks to be him!" Again, despite the words, there was a complete absence of anger in his voice, or any negative emotion, for that matter.

Meanwhile, Backtrack was busy staring in the direction Inferno took off in. "Man," he was saying, "That was _some_ cloaking device." There was an envious note in his voice that we all picked up on.

"Hello?" asked Hal, sounding embarrassed for Backtrack, "That's _Inferno _you're talking about."

"Yeah, don't say stuff like that!" I added. "It's creepy." After all that crud about what a jerk Inferno was, now he was complimenting him? Backtrack needed to pick a side and stay on it.

"Well, obviously, Inferno's a jerk," said Backtrack, "But you can't deny how cool it would be to be invisible. I mean, there wasn't a trace of him anywhere! Can you imagine how useful that would be?"

"Yeah, if you like hide and seek," I muttered.

Hal laughed and smacked me on the back. "Ha! Hide and seek. Good one, Grid!" I smiled, glad to see my wit appreciated. (For once.)

Blackout had been busy looking proud of himself for the past few minutes. Now, he suddenly snapped up. "Hey!" he shouted, "There's someone getting on the stage."

By now, any doubts about Blackout's radar had, obviously, evaporated, and we all hastily looked up to see. Soon, though, our enthusiasm faded because the minicon wasn't the one we'd been expecting. A different blue minicon was crouched down at the rim of the platform. From the way he was positioned, I guessed that he had just climbed up on the stage from the crowd. The people near us had heard Blackout's shout and were now all murmuring to each other, wondering who that was and where High Wire could be. In a flash, I recognized the minicon as Grindor, High Wire's lackey that had held the key the night before. I pointed this out to the others.

"Grindor?" asked Backtrack. "Seriously? But, why him?"

"How should I know?" I answered. "I'm just telling you what I'm seeing."

"Well, maybe if you two will shut up for a second, we'll find out what the deal is," Blackout said, as if he was addressing two children. He shook his head in false exasperation. "Kids these days."

I was about to snap something at Blackout, and Hal was in the process of making a move to try and hold me back when we were interrupted. "Alright!" a voice shouted, loud enough to wake the dead. If there were any windows in this place, they probably would've shattered. It was Grindor. "I need every one of you to shut up! Now!" Immediately, the murmuring stopped. "No, no. Don't do that," he went on as some people started to sit down. "C'mon, get up off the floor all of ya'! This'll only take a second." The bots in question hastily stood back up.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that Grindor wasn't quite as humble or patient as High Wire was. On the other hand, he certainly got the crowd quiet faster than High Wire ever could. Like Leader-1, people tended to listen to him. Unlike Leader-1, however, they mostly listened to him because of his sheer volume, not out of any respect. Actually, now that I think about it, Leader-1's quiet demeanor and Grindor's commanding voice contrasted pretty sharply with each other.

"Okay," he was going on, "There are a couple of things I need to say to you guys, and then you can do whatever the pit it is you want to do for the rest of the night."

"Where's High Wire?" someone in the crowd interrupted.

Grindor shot them a dirty look. "High Wire's out on a raid," he snapped. "He and Sureshock won't be back 'til tomorrow night." We all looked at each other in surprise at that. High Wire on the raiding team? He didn't seem like the raiding type.

"First and foremost," Grindor went on, "From now on, everyone will be on strict rations." The crowd, including us, groaned audibly. "I know, I know," Grindor said, "It sucks. Believe it or not, they're putting us officers on rations, too. We get the exact same amount of oil as you guys. Personally, I think we should get more. After all, we're the ones who set this whole thing up for ya'. Fortunately for you, that's not up to me." I good portion of the audience gulped. We definitely weren't dealing with High Wire anymore.

As he spoke, Grindor pulled a small rectangular screen out of his chest compartment and held it up for us to see. "So, listen up! 'Cause this is important!" he shouted. "This is a ration card. Everybody's getting _one,_ and _one_ is enough for everybody." After that last line, he narrowed his optics at us as if in suspicion. "Later tonight, a commanding officer will drop by your sleeping quarters and give you each a card," he went on. "Your card will have your name on it as well as your ration credits for the day. There are two big machines, one in each corridor," he said this while pointing to the right and left, looking a lot like a weathercock. "What you do is stick your card in the machine, and it'll spew out your ration. You get two credits each day, and every time you use the machine you'll get one barrel of oil. _One."_ Again, he put emphasis on the dreaded number. "For those of you who are lacking in the math department, that means you get two barrels of oil a day. You can get them whenever you want, but please use it wisely, for your sake. And no, they don't rollover. So, if you decide, for whatever reason, that you don't want your oil, you don't get extra the next day. Got it?"

We all nodded to show that we got it.

"If we somehow discover that someone 'magically' managed to get another ration card," he went on, making quote/unquote gestures with his hands, "Or we find out that someone tried to get 'extra helpings,' guess who has to go without rations for a week!"

For the second time tonight, everybody gulped.

"Moving on! And…" Grindor's voice suddenly dropped a few decibels. He turned his head to the side, "Believe it or not," he murmured, "This is the bad news." His voice rose again. "Those of you who've been freed, by now you've been away from your partners for two days." ("Partners? You mean slave masters!") "Don't interrupt me, okay? I hate that!" Grindor snapped in the direction of the speaker. Then he went on, "Naturally, they're starting to wonder where you are. The Patrol Team has already reported that the notice is going up all over Cybertron: The Minicons are Missing." People started nodding and muttering smugly to one another.

"Yeah, it sounds catchy," Grindor lifted his voice over the clamor, "But that poses a real problem for us. Obviously, we don't want anyone to know about our little 'project' that we've got going on down here." He did the quote things with his hands again. "If everyone stays missing for much longer, eventually they'll know that something's up. That means, and," his voice got quieter again, "You're going to hate me for having to tell you this," his voice rose, "Everyone who has a partner on either side must return to them. And soon."

There was an instant uproar. There was an almost simultaneous roar of, "WHAT?!" as the crowd jumped up and started shouting angrily at Grindor, as if this was his fault. Even I, who had no partner, was shocked. Return to those tyrants? After all that hope? After finally thinking we were safe forever? Was he crazy? Next to me, I could make out Hal screaming, "There's no way you'll ever get me back there!" That's when I realized that Hal was a victim, too.

For once, not even Grindor could get the crowd quiet. That's not to say he wasn't loud enough. Believe it or not, I could actually make out what he was saying. "Okay, cool it! Hey! I said cool it! Oh, why don't you come up here and say that to my face, huh?! Everyone shut up! HEY! BACKTRACK!"

On that last word, "BACKTRACK!" Blackout and I turned to look curiously at the green minicon next to us. (Blackout tried to anyway. He couldn't see, remember.) Apparently, Grindor's yell was some sort of signal because right on cue, Backtrack lifted his right arm in the air. His hand glowed a bright green before a neon laser shot out of it and hit the ceiling way above us. Three times he did this, before putting his arm back down again. There was a little bit of screaming, but pretty soon the crowd calmed down.

"I realize that probably nobody here wants to go through with that," Grindor said when the crowd got quiet. (Instant shouts of "Darn right!") "But it can't be helped. If those autobrats or decepticreeps find out what we're planning, we're all doomed." There was a smaller uproar this time. There was panic, sure, but there was also pleasure from hearing Grindor use those degrading nicknames on the other transformers. "But!" Grindor had to raise his voice again. It wasn't very hard for him. "There is actually a specific way we need to do this. For instance, if we all return to them at the same time, it'll just rouse even _more_ suspicion. On that note, we'll be rotating who'll go back and who'll stay here. We'll sort all that out later."

"Additionally, once you do go back, you need to be able to escape again. Yeah, that's asking a lot of you, I know, but it's perfectly necessary. We need someone to build the ship after all. If you all leave and don't come back, well, you might as not well not have bothered escaping in the first place." Grindor paused for a second, maybe to collect his thoughts, before going on. "As for how you'll do it, I just have this to say: _Nothing is too drastic. _Find any reason, make any excuse necessary to come back here. Whatever you need to do, do it. _Fake your own death,_ if you have to. I don't care. Just make sure you get back here."

Once again, Grindor's face started to harden. That suspicious look was back. "And if there's anyone out there who find that, for whatever crazy reason, they like serving in someone's war better than this, they'd better not show their face plate around here anymore!" He pointed accusingly at the crowd. "We don't have the time or patience for deserters! Follow me?"

The crowd started nodding again. Some of them were nodding so hard, I thought they might follow Grindor straight into Unicron's maw if they had to. "Who would be crazy enough to want to stay with the autobots or decepticons anyway?" I muttered to Blackout. The reason for deserting, if there was a reason, was way beyond me. It was basically a choice between hard labor or slavery _and_ hard labor. Escaping Cybertron seemed like a pretty good option to me. But obviously, it was a common enough problem for Grindor to be paranoid about. I was baffled.

Blackout just shrugged, as if he really couldn't care less.

"So if anyone has any silly ideas about 'honor' or 'loyalty,'" continued Grindor, eyes narrowed, "They'd better leave them at the gate. Because, there's no honor in fighting someone else's war, and what you're mistaking for 'loyalty' is really just cowardice." Grindor suddenly leaned back. His expression softened slightly. "And we all know it, don't we?" he muttered. The crowd became solemn, as if everyone was drinking in what he said.

Grindor stood there for a second silently, letting us all take the moment in. Then he snapped back up and stood alert, informing us that the philosophical part of the lecture was over. "For those of you who are returning, let me clear some things up. There is absolutely no chance (I repeat, no chance) that you will be able to bond with your partner again. The, uh, _treatment_ you got last night has made you temporarily immune to that. So, all the things you would be able to do normally with your formal partner, you'll still be able to do. Yes, you'll be able to powerlink with them. Yes, they'll still understand you. Yes, you'll still be able to read their thoughts, all that stuff…"

"Read their thoughts?" I asked in a hushed tone. I'd heard about what a minicon goes through when they're captured, but I'd never heard anything like that. Read their thoughts? As in their minds? You could be inside their heads? What the slag was _that_ about?

Blackout just shushed me and hissed something about talking in class.

"…But, technically, you won't be bound to them," Grindor hadn't paused when I spoke and had kept going. "The only real difference is that now you can go as far away from them as you want, and you'll never feel any pain. "You can even make physical contact with other bulks, and you won't bond with them, either." For a second, Grindor let his sharp demeanor settle, and a sarcastic smile shone through. "You've now entered the Safe Zone. Congratulations," he said, spreading his arms apart. It seemed to me that Grindor was making fun of the "freecons" more than he was actually congratulating them, but I didn't comment. No one else seemed to notice. I guess they were too busy being excited about the "Safe Zone" thing to notice what a subtle jerk Grindor was. Oh, well. What you don't know can't hurt you, I guess.

"To all of you _lucky dogs_ who've managed to evade capture," Grindor went on, "Well, your luck just ran out." The sarcastic smile transformed into a somewhat apologizing one. That expression looked completely out of place on Grindor's face, and that coupled with his last line made all of us "lucky dogs" feel pretty anxious. "The thing is, since you never got the 'treatment,' you're not immune the way they are." There was another, smaller uproar, along with cries of, "What!" and, "That's not fair!" My own voice could be heard in the cacophony.

"I know it's not fair!" Grindor shouted, in response, "But come on, is that really anything new? After what we've been through?" His voice was steadily rising in volume, getting angrier. Full of emotion. "At this point, anyone who still believes that life is fair is one sad, delusional sap, if you ask me!" he spat. That last comment instantly silenced the crowd and got several ashamed, downcast looks from its members.

Grindor settled down just as soon as the crowd did. "So," he said, in an oddly calm tone, "Everything I just said about being safe? Forget all of it. None of it applies to you. You can still be caught, you still can't make physical contact with the bigger bots, you know. But this time, if you're caught, we can't help you. So do yourself a favor, and _don't_ get caught." His eyes started to glitter with that sarcastic smile again. His tone took up that aggravating mocking sound. "Really though, it shouldn't be a problem for hot shots, such as yourselves," he said, "After all, you've managed to escape for so long, what's a few more months, right?"

Months? _Months!?_ Fragging _months?! Slag! Slag, slag, slag!_ A round of curses started cycling in my head, as the painful, obvious question that I had been ignoring stared straight at me. I'd been so caught up in everything, I hadn't given a thought to how long this would take! Now, a totally new panic was shaking me awake. That ship in the back was _huge!_ We were running out of supplies! We were going to be here for months! Possibly years! It would be forever before we finally escaped, _if _we ever escape! I was spiraling; I was suddenly unaware of anything around me. The worst part was that no one else was reacting (read: overreacting) the way I was. Apparently, they had already known this ahead of time. Being the only one to flip out like this made me feel even more like an idiot than I already did.

I don't know if this is what Grindor was aiming for when he made that comment, but I got an odd feeling that he knew he would get that reaction somehow… and was getting a sadistic pleasure out of it.

"Still," he went on, "Don't be stupid either. Unless we specifically ask you to, you shouldn't go outside. We can't afford to lose anyone." Grindor's voice got quieter again. By now, we were starting to realize that when Grindor's voice dropped, we were about to hear something bad, so we all got a little nervous. "Actually," he muttered, "That brings me to my next point."

"Oh, great!" someone shouted bitterly, "More good news!"

"Will you put a lid on it?!" snapped Grindor, "I know this is tiring, but it's important! This is a safety issue."

The crowd calmed down just a little.

"Well," he began, "The Patrol Team was doing their rounds today, and they reported…" Grindor faltered a little, another bad sign, "A, uh… er…"

"Out with it, already!" Hal yelled next to me, "What is it?"

"Give me a second!" Grindor snapped. Then he sighed. "I probably should just say it… Guys, last night, the decepticons set up a new base near here."

The ever-present hum in the auditorium rose to fever pitch. The same thought seemed to be going through everyone's heads: _Decepticons… here?_ Big, vicious gun-toting robots that wanted to enslave us all? So close by? Can you really blame us for panicking?

"How near is 'near here?'" someone asked, anxiously.

"Like, 'don't light any flares' near here," Grindor stated, coldly.

That did it.

There was this like, _explosion_ of sound and fury. Everyone was running around in a total state of panic. (Including me.) It was mass chaos. A lot of people were even screaming. I'm honestly surprised the roof didn't collapse on top of us, we were being so loud.

Grindor's ability to control a crowd was being sorely tested. Actually, he probably saw this coming, because as soon as he had finished speaking, he immediately started shouting. "Quiet all of you!" he roared. (Though it sounded pretty quiet, compared to the terror-filled racket we were making.) "Keep it down! They might hear you! DO YOU WANT TO BRING THEM ALL HERE?!"

The way the crowd instantly became silent after he said that is, like, magic or something.

"Okay" he breathed, "Not that that was an inappropriate reaction or anything, but that's exactly the kind of recklessness that's going to get us all caught. So like I said earlier, be careful while you're here. Don't go outside. And, if you run into any kind of trouble, come straight back here. The entranceway is too small for any decepticon. But, make sure you lose them before you come. We don't want our cover blown."

The crowd nodded again, but this time, everyone moved their heads slowly and mechanically, like they were sleep walking. I guess the gravity of everything Grindor said was starting to wear on us.

"And that," Grindor said, "Is all I have to say to you tonight! To be honest," he added, "I'm pretty sick of talking to you, anyway. You're all dismissed!"

People started filing out as soon as he stopped speaking, too tired out to care about anything else. I turned to Hal and the others. Backtrack looked like he was mad at someone, and Hal had the shocked, empty look of someone who'd just been told that everything he'd ever heard in his life was a lie. Blackout was expressionless, as usual, but I could tell how he was feeling because he was the first one to speak.

"Man, some talk, huh?" he understated. The tone he used wasn't the right one at all. It was full of awe, almost admiration. I was too worn down to snap at him and just scowled.

"Oh yeah, riveting," Backtrack spat. "Just great."

"I can't believe I have to go find _him_ again," Hal murmured, like someone in a nightmare. The way he said that, _"him,"_ made me realize that he was referring to his "partner." I pitied Hal, but I also kind of grateful I wasn't in his position.

"I can't believe there's a decepticon base here." It was my turn to be disbelieving. "How the slag are we supposed to work with something like that hanging over our heads?"

"It can't be helped," Backtrack said, darkly. "We're all already here. It's too late to go anywhere else."

"Fragging decepticons," I muttered, "They'll ruin everything." In my head, I was condemning them all to the flames. Fear can turn to hatred incredibly fast.

Blackout still managed to be the only cheerful one. "Aw, c'mon Grid!" he said, throwing his arm clumsily around my shoulders. (And almost missing.) "We're not scared of any lousy decepticons, are we?"

"We?" I asked, suspiciously. He ignored me.

"Just you wait," Blackout went on, holding up a fist, "We'll show them."

"I really don't want to show them anything," I said, shaking him off. I rushed into my sleeping quarters before he could follow, and planted myself in my bunk, afraid and alone once more.

That night, I swore I heard giant footsteps, somewhere up above.

**Author's Notes: **

And thus, another chapter ends in a bad place. Poor Grid.

At 6060 words, this is the longest chapter yet. This chapter also marks the first time I've actually had to cut something out to make it shorter, a first for my fan fiction career. I almost had a heart attack at the time, but now I realize that the scene in question was pretty boring anyway. It was just Backtrack, Grid, and Hal showing off their abilities. It was neither interesting nor plot relevant, but still, that was the first time I've had to do something like that. What else will be sacrificed…?

For those of you who're wondering why I characterized Grid the way I did, I don't really have a reason. I wanted him to stand out, I guess.

I was hoping to get this chapter out before the end of January. I fail.

That's it for now. Later!


	8. Wait

**Wait**

The night before had been absolute torture.

I've never been very a light sleeper. In fact, I'm usually the first one out and the last one up. But despite that, (or maybe, because of it,) I still wasn't safe.

From the nightmares.

It was terrible. Every time I deactivated my optics, even for a second, there they would be. I don't why. The best guess I've got is that Grindor's warning about the decepeticon base and the incident with Inferno must've screwed up my subconscious. The freaky thing was, it was a different nightmare every time. Sometimes I would see decepticons, whole legions of them. Those usually involved the hideout being invaded in some way. Sometimes I would see Unicron, and every possible scenario that involved him in any way would come charging at me. There he was in the sky, laying waste to all of Cybertron. There he was, coming right at me, lightening and fire everywhere. There _I_ was, somewhere inside him at my birth, without any name, any memories, any _soul._ I could create a pit to rival Dante's with all the _fun times_ I had in my head that night.

Of course, all the things I described above were normal nightmares that you'd expect from someone who was spending a night in the pit. You know, the cosmic horror, can't-run-fast-enough brand of nightmare that small humans have. But there were some really weird ones in there, too. In fact, the part of me that wasn't completely freaked out was a little impressed with myself for creating images like that. There's no way I could have come up with some of the things I saw that night while I was awake, that's for sure.

For example, the above dreams involved fear of giant transformers, but there was one that I had where I _was _an autobot. In that one, I was chasing after minicons, but they kept running from me. It was really frustrating. (Actually, that one was one of the highlights of the night, seeing as I didn't wake up screaming.) In at least one, Inferno was the object of my terror, but in another, I saw him sprawled out on the ground, his optics clouded over with pain. The strangest thing about that is that I didn't feel the way you'd expect me to. I didn't have the sadistic pleasure of a kid who's found out that their least favorite teacher is in the hospital. In the dream, I felt shock and pity. That reaction confused me, and left me wondering instead of screaming.

But wait! There's more. I saw the rotting bodies of transformers, strung and bound in darkness. I dreamt I was a thief again, but every time I tried to steal something, I felt a pain like a white hot sword in my hand. In one particularly strange one, I saw a giant figure (it looked like a decepticon, but I couldn't be sure) being disintegrated right in front of my eyes.

Needless to say, I didn't get a fantastic amount of rest that night.

There were probably more, but I don't want your ears to rot, and I can't remember them all anyway. You probably want me to move on, but there is one more thing that happened in the sleeping quarters that I should probably talk about.

As you can imagine, getting up that morning was a real chore. I could barely see straight, I was so exhausted. From the pale looks and sluggish movements of everyone else, I guessed they didn't sleep so well, either. Grindor's "talk" last night must've messed _everyone _up. (Though, to be fair, it might've just been because of me. I did a fair amount of screaming that night.) Some people weren't even up yet, and one of them was in the bunk several rows above mine.

I don't think I mentioned this, did I? The fact that Leader-1 and I were in the same quarters? Because we were. Maybe it's good that I didn't mention that yet, seeing as that morning was the first that I found out.

Leader-1 was usually the last one to bed and the first one up every day. That routine was the complete opposite of mine, which meant that he and I never ran into each other at night. My only guess for this behavior was that he was just busy all the time. So, I was more than a little surprised when somebody pointed to the bunk five rows above mine and said, "Hey, what about Leader-1?"

I stared, dumbstruck. Naturally, I was shocked that we had been in the same room for two nights without me knowing. Later, I would learn that it was even more surprising that he wasn't up yet.

Anyway, somebody else thought it would be a good idea to try and get him up. At that point, Blackout had already come in and was getting out his blaster to use as an alarm clock again. Luckily for all of us, I wisely restrained him before he could fire it, on the grounds that even with his radar, he couldn't be a very good shot with his bandaged eye, and that could be disastrous. Besides, I had a feeling that Leader-1 would be less tolerant than I was to Blackout's antics… and _my_ reaction to Blackout's "wake-up call" had been to strangle him.

So, while I pinned Blackout, the others entered a heated debate about who would handle this _delicate procedure._ By "heated debate" I mean that they whispered to each other for a few seconds, then grabbed the nearest sucker and threw him in the direction of the bunks. I've said this before; nobody was really _afraid_ of Leader-1, but we all figured that he could really hurt us if he wanted to. And no one felt like paying Longarm a visit.

The guy in question spent a couple seconds looking around with a scared "who me?" expression on his face before flying up. Everyone else was on the floor below, looking up anxiously. I was near the back of the room, so even though they were both high up, I could see everything pretty well.

The flying minicon stalled for a second longer, then gently nudged Leader-1 on the shoulder. "Uh… Leader-1? Sir?" he asked, sounding very unsure about what he was doing.

Leader-1 just groaned and turned his head to the side. I could now get a pretty good look at his optics. They were dim.

Flying Guy tried again. "Leader-1, sir? You have to get up now. Everyone's waiting. C'mon," he said, still sounding nervous. He shook Leader-1's shoulder a little.

Leader-1 stirred restlessly, but it still didn't seem like he was awake yet. He made another noise, but it wasn't just a groan. This time, it seemed like words. I couldn't understand him very well, but it sounded to me like he was saying, "No… No, I won't…" I narrowed my eyes, puzzled. Was he responding to the other guy?... Or was he still dreaming? We'd get a hint in a second.

"Uh, sir?"

More groaning.

"Sir?"

"I SAID I WON'T!" he suddenly roared. He sat right up, scaring the slag out of all of us. Then, without any kind of warning whatsoever, a plate on his chest flipped over, revealing a glowing power grid on the other side, and he opened fire.

It caused quite an uproar. Bright yellow blasts ricocheted off the walls and exploded everywhere, raining sparks and smoke. One blast was so close to me and Blackout, that if we had both been standing just a foot over to the right, it probably would've killed us both. Blackout was probably the most freaked out of anyone… or the most frustrated. His radar couldn't detect laser fire, and with no optics, he just moved his head around, very confused, shouting, "What is it? What's going on? Who's firing?" A lot of people were screaming. A few had bolted out of the room.

In times of crisis, your mind usually stops completely. But, if you're lucky, it does the opposite and speeds up, and you think faster than you ever have before. That's what happened to me. It occurred to me that Leader-1, calm and composed Leader-1, wouldn't _intentionally_ fire on us. So, he must still be out. We just had to snap him out of it. I raised my voice to an almost Grindor-like volume. "Leader-1!" I yelled, "Leader-1, it's us! Stop firing!"

Everyone else saw what I was doing and followed suit. "Leader-1! Leader-1! Snap out of it!"

Leader-1's optics lit up. He gasped and looked around, very confused. I'd never seen him so flustered. "Wha…? What's going…?" he stuttered. He surveyed all the damage, the black flowers of ash that decorated the walls and floor and, amazingly, seemed to comprehend. His expression darkened, looking almost pained. He turned to Flying Guy (who was now more nervous then ever) and asked, "Did… I do this?" with that same dark, pained expression.

"Well..." he stalled, " Sir, you slept in, so I-I thought I'd try to get you up. And then when I did, you… you sort of…" His voice trailed off.

"Ah," Leader-1 murmured, looking away. "I see." All the confusion was gone from his face, but his usual calm air hadn't returned. No one expected it to.

He just sat silently for a couple of seconds, gazing at nothing. Then he turned slowly back to Flying Guy. "Well," he said, nodding in his direction, "Thank you for waking me up." His voice was quiet. It sounded almost defeated to me.

Flying Guy hesitated for a second, like he was afraid Leader-1 would start shooting again. Then he raised his hand in a salute. "You're welcome, sir," he whimpered. Poor guy sounded like he was about to burst into tears. If something like that was possible for us, anyway.

Leader-1 didn't acknowledge his reply. He just started down the ladder to the floor. He went at a normal pace, but there seemed to be a… a sort of heaviness around him. All optics were on him, even those belonging to Flying Guy, who hadn't moved at all. (Not Blackout's, though.) Nobody said a word the whole time. He didn't transform once he reached the floor. He just walked out.

When he reached the door, he turned around and surveyed the room one more time. "C-clean this up," he muttered. Then he left.

Last I saw, the power grid on his chest was still glowing.

* * *

Today's work was great. Yeah, real great. Almost as much fun as yesterday's.

Meaning, it sucked. A lot.

We went to the same place we did yesterday and pretty much did the same thing. Elita apparently didn't get a whole lot of sleep either. (So it wasn't me…) Her optics were only half lit and her voice was even quieter than usual as she read who we were partnered up with. She normally seemed so innocent and so carefree, I found myself wondering what kind of nightmare she could possibly have.

So this is about where the "fun" began. First of all, we weren't partnered with the same people we were with yesterday. Which means that I didn't get to work with Elita. Instead, I got saddled with some puny little twerp named Nightbeat. (I have no idea why they did this. Maybe they wanted us to "branch out" or something.) Working with Nightbeat was impossible. He just kept _staring_ at me. I guess word of what happened with Inferno got around even faster than I thought because I hadn't even seen this guy before, but he still kept looking at me with these expressions of fear and extreme excitement. Like I was some sort of dangerous animal that he'd thought didn't exist.

He didn't ever really say anything to me. Just stared. I think he was trying to seem cool and on his toes, but whenever I made a sudden move toward him, or even spoke to him, he'd flip and drop whatever he was holding. Idiot. Am I really that scary?

To make it worse, none of the people I'd met over the past two days were near me. Elita had apparently found out about the mishap in the sleeping quarters because a lot of people to assigned to work there on cleanup duty instead of on the ship, including Hal and Backtrack. Blackout wasn't even assigned to work _anywhere._ Longarm came and dragged him away before Elita got the chance. Apparently, he "needed rest" or something. Personally, I think they just didn't want him to mess anything up. Plus, they might've been afraid that someone else would lose it and decide to deck him.

Elita also didn't work at all, and Leader-1 was nowhere to be found. My guess was that he'd ducked behind the scenes, and Elita had gone to comfort him.

So I was alone. I finally decide to meet a bunch of people, and they're nowhere to be found. Figures.

To make things even _more_ fun, Inferno was assigned to clean up in the sleeping quarters. Normally, this would have been great, except for that minor problem what with him being able to turn himself completely invisible whenever he wanted. Since he was supposed to be in a different room, I had no way to keep tabs on him. So I was constantly imagining that he was watching me again, lurking behind something, or even out in the open, completely transparent. And since Blackout wasn't around, I didn't have a long distance radar to calm my fears. Every other sound would make me freeze, listening for Inferno's harsh voice.

That, combined with Nightbeat's incredible silent pressure, did not make for the friendliest work place. Actually, I felt like I was suffocating. (Which is quite an accomplishment, considering I don't even need to breathe in the first place.) The only time when I got a chance to escape that atmosphere was when I went down the hall, up to the big ugly dispensing machine to get my daily ration of oil. But even then, I wasn't completely safe. I kept imagining that Inferno had followed me in, so I couldn't completely relax. I could feel myself spiraling toward paranoia. Primus, when did this happen? When did I get so _scared_ of him like this?

Actually, now that I look back on it, I don't think he was even following me that day anyway because if he was, there's no way he could've stopped himself from laughing. Seeing what a nervous wreck he was turning me into.

It was a huge relief at the end of the day, when the intercom announced, in Elita's voice, that it was time to gather in the stage once more. Finally! Free at last! I practically flew out of there, I was so ecstatic.

There was a ripple of excitement going through the atmosphere when I drove in. I could feel it. And it wasn't just because everyone was happy to not be working. (Well, that was part of it. But that wouldn't have made today any different from yesterday.) For once, I knew what was going on. Everyone was excited because today was the day the Raiding Team returned with their spoils. And, more importantly, the assignments would rotate tonight. Meaning that all the teams for tomorrow would all be totally different.

Meaning that everyone had a chance, just a chance, that they would be on the next raid.

I think we were all hoping for it and fearing it at the same time. If you went, you were brave, you were a hero. You had struck a blow against our former oppressers! You were also a huge target. Wild game. If you were caught, even if you were in the "Safe Zone" there's no way you wouldn't suffer somehow. And now that we knew that there was a decepticon base so nearby, there was an extra risk involved.

Which of course, made it that much more exciting if you came back alive.

As for me, I wasn't interested in that kind of thing. I couldn't see myself getting honor or glory or any of that stuff. All I saw was the risk. Besides, I knew they wouldn't want a screw-up like me on the Raiding Team. Still, I was eager for a new assignment. Working on that ship was grating on me. It was slow, we were staring to run out of supplies, and that suffocating atmosphere couldn't be good for me. I needed a change.

That's where I was now, waiting for the other teams to arrive. Hal found me pretty quickly. He looked kind of cheerful, but I saw a darker sort of look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. I think he was thinking about partner again. Poor guy.

There was still no sign of Elita or Leader-1. I scanned the crowd looking for them, in vain. This place was big, but it couldn't be that big. Where were they?

"Have you seen Elita?" I asked Hal. "Or Leader-1, maybe?" For a second, I thought that maybe Elita had gone to help clean up the sleeping quarters and Leader-1 had gone with her.

Hal shook his head. "Haven't seen Elita since this morning," he said. Then his optics widened slightly, like he just remembered something. "But, I did see Leader-1 once earlier."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "When? What was he doing?"

"It was when I went to go get my ration. I was walking down the hallway and I saw him," Hal said, rubbing his head, as if that would help him remember. "He wasn't really doing anything. Just sort of standing there." He frowned. "Actually, he didn't look too good. He looked kinda sick."

"Sick?" I asked, making a face. Sure, Leader-1 had seemed pretty shaken that morning. But not sick. What did he mean?

"Well, not really sick," Hal admitted. "Maybe that's not the right word. He just… seemed out of it, I guess. He didn't really seem like he wanted to be around anyone else. When he saw me, he just walked away." Hal paused, thinking for a second. "I guess he just had a rough night last night. We all did." A little bit of that dark look crept back into his eyes.

I nodded. I'm pretty sure I had the same look. My mind flashed back to the night before. All those nightmares… that would drive anyone mad. "Were you there this morning when…" I didn't have to finish.

"Of course, I was!" Hal sounded almost insulted by the question. "That's where I sleep! How could I _not_ have seen?" He calmed down. His voice got quieter. "Man," he murmured, "Did you see the look on his face?"

That dark, pained expression? I was pretty sure everyone had seen that. I nodded.

So that must've been it. Leader-1 wasn't feeling good and Elita had gone to comfort him. It was just those nightmares that had made him freak out like that. That was all.

Oh, how I wish that was all.

"Look," I said, "Maybe we should stop talking about this. I mean, it's kind of depressing, and…"

But Hal wasn't listening to me. I don't think he even heard one word of my last sentence because he was staring right over my shoulder without any reaction to indicate that he had a clue what I was telling him. He had a really weird caught kind of expression. Like, he couldn't decide whether to shout or burst out laughing. It was creeping me out.

"What?" I asked, "What are you-"

"GRIDSY!" Before I could even finish, I heard that shout go off right next to my audio sensors at full volume. At the same time, I felt this really heavy weight drop onto both of my shoulders. It scared the slag out of me!

"GAH!" I screamed, jumping away. I whirled around in a defensive pose to see what idiot had jumped me like that. It was… who else? Surprise, surprise, it was Blackout. He was standing in front of me, as irritatingly cheerful as ever. Unlike the rest of us, he didn't seem tired at all. Did he not have any nightmares? Or was he just so naturally hyper that fatigue didn't stick to him? I had no idea.

Another thing I noticed (as the shock wore off) was that he was fully repaired. The bandage over his face plate had been removed, and his optic shone, bright and orange. The weight I had felt on my shoulders, I realized later, had come from his hands. I don't know if he was trying to get a laugh or what, but he'd half-tackled me when he came over, nearly giving me a spark attack in the process.

I was ready to kill him.

"Look, Gridsy!" he shouted happily. "Longarm gave me my optic back!" He swiveled it around, as if to prove his point. "I can see!"

"Would you like to lose it again!?" I yelled, lunging toward him. Hal thought fast and grabbed me from behind before I could get to Blackout. (Are you starting to see a pattern here?)

"Geez!" I seethed, struggling against Hal's grip, "Why can't you just walk up and say 'Hi' like a normal person!?"

"… Normal… Person?" Blackout asked innocently. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Take it easy, Grid!" Hal shouted, still trying to hold me back. "It's just Blackout; he can't help it!" He sounded amused.

"Yeah, Grid. Take it easy," Blackout agreed. He sighed and looked towards the tunnel leading outside. "The Raiding Team outta be here pretty soon," he observed. As if he hadn't just done something totally ridiculous and was actually sane.

"Don't change the subject!" I snapped.

"No, he's right!" said Hal. "Look!"

Against my better judgment, I looked. During all the commotion (that Blackout caused) I hadn't noticed other minicons slowly trickling in from the tunnel. Now, behind everyone else, the Raiding Team was coming in.

They didn't just trickle in like the others did. It was more like a swarm. Sureshock was in the front, in vehicle mode. Following close behind was a group of ground minicons, all driving in formation. They had to be arranged a certain way because they were all balancing a crate that was filled with… guess what?... oil. A lot of it. Like, maybe sixteen oil drums that were each bigger than I was. Score.

As soon as the crowd saw Sureshock and their cargo, they cheered. Really loud. I stopped being mad and stared. I envied them, just a little. It must be nice to be admired. (Yes, I remember what I said earlier. Shut up.)

But they weren't the only ones in the procession. Behind them were other groups of minicons carrying crates of different supplies. One was full of cables and junk. Several were filled with building materials for the ship. The flying members of the team held up supplies with cables. The people closest to them had to duck so as not to hit their heads. The Raiding Team must've been huge, because there were a lot of people swarming in, and there was no evidence of the flow stopping.

"Man, look at all that," Hal said, awe in his voice.

"Looks like it went well," observed Blackout cheerfully. Then he muttered to himself, "I _so_ should've gone with them."

"Um, Hal?" I called. "You can let me go now."

Hal put me down. Instead of killing Blackout, like I probably should've done, I just watched the rest come in. A sort of path had formed in the middle of the crowd for the team to go through, and to our surprise, it wove pretty close to where we were. One white plane that wasn't carrying anything actually flew in, transformed, and landed right in front of us.

The minicon in question had dark blue stripes and optics to match. He had a really serious no-nonsense kind of expression. He looked pretty intense to me.

Blackout, oblivious Blackout, ran right up to him. "Hey, man!" he called, "Good job out there!" He held out his hand, presumably as an invitation to a high-five.

The plane didn't respond. Actually, he didn't even look at him. It was as if Blackout wasn't there at all. He just stalked right past us, without sparing a passing glance. He didn't even have the excuse of not hearing him, since Blackout has this way of being very in-your-face whenever he says anything.

We all stared after him. "What was that about?" I asked, a little annoyed. That high and mighty act reminded me of Inferno. Not a good thing to remind me of.

"Hey! What's with the angst?" Blackout called. He didn't sound annoyed, just curious. The plane still didn't respond.

"Did you do something to tick that guy off?" I asked Blackout. I wouldn't put it past him. I really wouldn't.

"No," Blackout answered, sounding surprised I would even suggest such a thing. (Seriously.) "I've never seen that guy before."

"Wait, wait," someone behind us said. "I remember now. That's uh… Racket. Yes, that's it. He's supposed to be a very capable soldier, I think."

I turned around to face the guy who spoke. "Does he always act like this?" I asked.

The guy looked troubled. "I…I don't know," he admitted, finally.

I turned away to stare back at the parade. A lot of help that guy was.

The procession was running out of people now. The last of the acquired cargo had already come in, and there were only a few stragglers, hurrying so as not to be left behind. Then, when we thought the team had run out of people, a lone car zoomed in from the back, the very last to enter. The car was dark blue with white and orange trim. No one recognized it. No one, that is, until he transformed. We could see who it was. We recognized him immediately.

It was High Wire.

There was an immediate explosion. If you remember, everyone had been cheering before, but now it had risen to a deafening roar. (I guess everyone had forgotten about the decepticon hideout next door.) The path that had formed for the Raiding Team to go through squirmed and collapsed onto itself, forming a circle. A circle around High Wire. People were talking to him, shaking his hand, trying to get as close as possible to him, all the while cheering like they had just been told they were never going to get to cheer again.

High Wire, for his part, looked astounded. He kept gazing around, stunned. Like he couldn't understand why these people who he'd promised freedom to thought he was so great. I saw Sureshock and Grindor tread their way through the throng to greet their boss. I could tell by the look in Grindor's eyes that he was barking at people to get back, but for once, no one was paying attention to him.

With great difficulty, the three of them managed to inch their way through the crowd to the stage. The crowd only very slightly parted for them, as everyone was still trying to get as close as possible. In the end, it was only with the help of Sparkplug, Elita, and, to my astonishment, Leader-1, who seemed to be perfectly fine now, that they managed to reach the rim of the platform at all.

The weird thing is, the second High Wire climbed up and raised his hands to speak, everyone immediately shut up. Like, completely. And this time, no one had threatened them or anything. They quieted down all on their own, just to _listen. That's_ how much we looked up to him. _That's_ how much we idolized him. In our eyes, he was like this great leader who was going to take us all to the Promise Land.

Apparently, he didn't see himself that way, because his first words to us were, "Well, I… I really don't know what to say." He put his hands down and started rubbing the back of his head. He looked embarrassed. "Um, thank you! Thank you all very much! I'm very flattered. It's a great honor…"

Someone in the crowd broke the silence. "You rock High Wire!" He shouted. I looked over, stunned. I had recognized that voice. Blackout had abandoned us to go participate in the excitement and was now standing considerably closer to the stage than we were. He was (obviously) the one who had yelled like that. As soon as he did, cheers started erupting. So much for the silence.

High Wire looked more humbled than ever, and it took several loud shouts from Grindor and a couple shots (to the ceiling, of course) from Backtrack to get everyone quiet again.

"Thank you," he said one more time, "Very much. But, really, enough is enough." Man, High Wire was one modest guy. If only he knew…

"Just a few quick notes," he began, not wanting to give the noise a chance to start again. "First of all, I'm happy to report that the raid that has been taking place for the past two days was a complete success. No one was hurt, and we got everything we wanted. In fact, at the time of our departure, the decepticons had not even noticed that anything was missing!"

The crowd cheered its approval. I noticed the cheering was getting more tame. Maybe people were afraid of killing their vocal processors. Or maybe the excitement was wearing down. One of those.

"I imagine a lot of you are anxious about our… um… new neighbors," he said, looking sympathetic. The crowd nodded, almost simultaneously. A few, I noticed, looked incredibly tired. "I'm really very sorry about that," he began, as if this was his fault, "But there's really nothing that can be done. They moved in the same night we did. Not long after us, I might add. Actually, that was a fortunate near-miss on our part. If the decepticons had arrived just three megacycles earlier…"

_They would have seen hundreds of minicons all going to one spot,_ I finished in my head, realizing, with horror, exactly what High Wire was saying. We had been _this close_ to losing everything. I shuddered. Everyone in the whole room was realizing the same thing and having similar reactions. Blackout was totally still, for once. I have no idea what was going through his head. _He probably would've liked to see a decepticon,_ I thought bitterly. _Let's see how he feels when he's stuck with one for the rest of his life. _

"Some of you, I heard, had requested more information on the team that had set up here," High Wire was saying. Our attention was immediately back on him. We waited. "And I will answer the first question that you all have. 'Is Megatron there?' That one." It was almost painful, the effort of waiting. High Wire didn't leave us hanging for long. "The answer is no," he said, "Megatron isn't anywhere near here. He may be on the other side of the planet, if our intelligence is accurate."

There was a huge, collective sigh of relief. Thousands of pairs of shoulders slumped forward, like a huge weight had just been lifted off. A few, I noticed, were particularly happy. These must've been the ones who'd had personal encounters with the decepticon leader. For the most part, anyway. A little way ahead, I saw Blackout snap his fingers together, and I could've sworn I heard him say, _Darn._ I swear, Blackout is suicidal or something.

"Unfortunately," High Wire was saying, "That's the only question we can answer. We know almost nothing about the decepticons that are so close by and what kind of danger they may pose." Nobody really took that seriously, I think. To be perfectly honest, if High Wire hadn't mentioned Megatron at all, his last sentence would've freaked us out more. But since he had told us that the biggest danger was gone, the other decepticons were hardly anything to us. Think, would you be afraid of a big dog after coming face to face with a tiger? Didn't think so.

"I have instructed the Raiding Team to avoid that particular base," High Wire told us, "And I advise you all to do the same. Do not go anywhere near that area. In fact, don't even go outside unless we tell you to. And in the event that you are unfortunate enough to be detected by a decepticon you may fight, flee, do anything you must to escape. But one thing you must never, never do is come straight back here. Make sure you lose them before you attempt to return. Otherwise we'll all pay the price. Is that clear?"

Any drill sergeant on Earth would've been quite impressed with the way we all nodded at the exact same time. Like clockwork, almost.

"One last thing. No, really, I promise. Just one more thing, and then I'm done," High Wire responded to someone's comment. He laughed. "Everyone's new work assignments will go into effect tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Your job for the next two days will appear on your ration card. Please do your best. That is all. As you were!"

The sound in the auditorium that followed was a weird mix of cheering and this hasty_ click-click-tang-click_ from thousands of robots opening their storage compartments for their ration cards. I joined them and reached into my own chest compartment for the touch sensitive screen that everyone was calling a card.

I examined it for a second. It was fairly large, bigger than my hand. It was rectangle shaped and consisted of a metal frame around a screen that displayed my name and lines for other information. It was on its back when I took it out. I lightly traced the back of it with my hand, then flipped it over.

Like I said earlier, I was a little excited. I was ready to get out of here. Get some fresh air. I'd never had a particularly close call with any giant robots, so with two days and no accidents, that fear was small and dreamlike now. Now came the moment of truth.

I looked, eager. Directly under my name, Grid, there were written the words, "CONSTRUCTION TEAM," in all caps, exactly like that. So, I was on the Construction Team.

Construction Team?

Hold on. I stared at the screen, the excitement gone. A deep confusion and a not-so-deep panic started to take its place. My eyes frowned. The Construction Team? Wait a second; wasn't I already on the Construction Team? What was this? They had me working the same job twice in a row? Was this some kind of glitch?

Yes, that's it. I calmed down a little. It was obviously a mistake. Some sort of error in the programming or something. Probably everyone's still said the same job as before. It must take a second to load. I started to relax more. _I'll just give it a few more cycles,_ I thought, _Then it'll be ready._

I flipped the card back over and waited. I stood still for a few seconds, waiting. That seemed to be all my life was made of lately. Working and waiting. When impatience started to gnaw on me, (which didn't take very long,) I flipped it back over with my optics closed. I opened them.

There was no change. The same two dreaded words were still there, unchanged: CONSTRUCTION TEAM. The panic started to rise back up again.

Hal had turned to talk to someone else. His card was in his hand. There was still a little bit of hope left in me. I decided to double check. "So… Hal," I said slowly, struggling to keep my voice absolutely calm. "What assignment did you get?"

Hal looked over, smiling. He still had his other conversation on the brain. "What?" he asked. Before I could answer, he went, "Oh, right! I got Scouting."

"Scouting?" I asked, my voice getting a little shaky. I was fighting the panic back with a broom now, and it still wasn't enough. "Really?"

"That's what it says." He showed me. Under Hal's name were the words: SCOUTING TEAM. The panic grew an extra head. Like a hydra, or something. "See?" he said. "Scouting." He frowned. "I'm not really sure what that means, to be honest," he mused, "But that's what it says. What did you get?"

Slag. I should've known that he'd ask. I held my card's screen against my chest, where he couldn't see it. "Oh, nothing," I said, trying to sound casual. I failed.

"Oh, c'mon, let me see." Hal reached over and grabbed the card. He started to flip it down, without even waiting for me to let go of it.

"Hey! Wait a-" I started. Too late. The card, and my assignment, were now in full view. Hal looked at it. I could see the confusion forming.

"Construction?" he asked, not getting it. "But, wasn't that what you're already doing?"

Once again, I was interrupted before I could answer. "Can you believe this!?" I heard someone shout. I looked over just in time to see Blackout abandon his post and drive quickly, but clumsily, over to where we were. He was in vehicle mode. His driving hadn't improved at all from when I'd first met him because he nearly hit somebody several times on his way over here. People had to keep jumping and diving to the floor to avoid getting steam-rolled over. In fact, I hadn't jumped out of the way myself when he came over, he might've ran right into me. He transformed and stood up. His optic was flashing.

"Look!" he said, shoving his card in our faces. "They gave me the same thing twice in a row! Can you believe that!?" he repeated.

I looked at his card. Same as mine, it clearly stated that Blackout was to serve on the Construction Team. "What? You too?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, me too!" Blackout fumed. He huffed. "This is crazy! We were supposed to get a _new_ job. But, no. No, Gridsy, it looks like we're the lonely boys. The ones who're getting left behind. Aw, nuts and bolts, this sucks! I wanted to be on the Raiding Team! Not fragging Construction! I can't be stuck between four walls forever! I'm a free spirit, man!" He was ranting now. I was a little shocked. This was probably the first time I'd ever seen him react negatively to anything. I didn't think he was capable of normal emotions like anger.

And the anger was contagious. Now that I realized I wasn't the only one who was going to be stuck here, the panic was leaving me and a surge of irritation was taking its place. Why were we getting left behind? Why was _I _getting left behind? It didn't make any sense.

"Look," I said, no longer unsure, "I'm gonna go find someone and ask what this is about." I started to leave.

I felt a tug on my shoulder. Actually, it was more like a jerk. "Good idea!" Blackout said, no longer sounding angry. More like he sniffed something exciting. "I'll come with you!"

"No! No, I'll go by myself, okay?" I tried to push him away. I looked over at Hal and shot him a please-help-me-out look. He shook his head and shrugged, which I took to mean, _You're on your own, man._

"Er," I stalled, thinking fast, "You… go some other way and see if you can find someone else." I didn't want Blackout trailing along behind me, for what I hope are obvious reasons.

Blackout totally bought it. "Ooh! Dividing and conquering, huh? I like that!" he said, his normal irritating happiness back. He transformed drove away, making people jump and dive as he went.

I transformed and drove in the opposite direction, leaving Hal in the dust. I was seriously ticked. I had totally isolated myself, put up with Inferno and his slag, and worked hard on building a whole slagging, fully operational ship when I'd never built a thing in my life before. All this in the name of freedom. Of having it. Holding it. Keeping it.

There's no way I was going to let them take it from me now without an explanation.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Yet another example of things being longer and slower than I anticipated. I need to work on my pacing.

Foreshadowing is so much fun.

Those of you who have read Mars might recognize Racket. But, most of you probably won't.

Sorry if this chapter was boring. I tried to make at least the beginning interesting, so you'd be less bored later on. That said, this chapter has some events that needed to be told, and I don't apologize for writing it.

_I regret nothing. _

You can imagine Grid "wisely restraining" Blackout any way you want. Me, I usually visualize Grid tackling him to the ground and wrestling the blaster down. But again, that's just me.

I considered ending the chapter right where Leader-1 says, "Clean this up," but I didn't because that would make the chapter too short. I just can't win when it comes to length. I'm sorry!

Eagerly anticipate the next chapter! I'm being swamped with work, so if I'm smart, the next chapter will not be here for a while. That is, if I keep my priorities in order…

'Till next time!


	9. Lock

**Lock**

I zipped to the front of the room, full speed. I didn't who I was looking for. In fact, I don't think I waslooking for anybody, at all. I was just looking. Searching frantically, actually. But not _anxiously_ – frantically, oh no. I mean I was mad. And impatient. I needed to speak to someone, and I needed to do it now. What I needed was a leader, an official, _anyone, _anyone at all who could tell me the exact reason I was being forced to stay here. I had forgotten about Blackout; all I could focus on was me. I didn't care who I had to talk to.

Unless, maybe it was High Wire. Or Leader-1. Or Elita. I didn't really want to bring this issue to them. Something in the back of my mind reeled at the thought. Sweet and feminine Elita… she was like a calming agent. That was the last thing I wanted. And despite the episode that morning, my thoughts on Leader-1 had not changed. I thought of him as a rock, a really hard sturdy one, and I imagined that he would not be moved by any of my outbursts.

And High Wire? Could I really go up to High Wire and demand an explanation for anything? Slag, no. The thought intimidated me almost as much as demanding something from Primus himself. He was definitely out of the question.

I finally found the bot I was (sort of) looking for. There was a certain yellow minicon with red eyes standing near the stage. He was addressing someone else. There was an modest kind of air around him. One of a person who doesn't have any ego whatsoever. It took me a few seconds to recognize this guy. Oh, right. This was Sparkplug. He was an officer. More importantly, he was someone who didn't know me. Perfect.

"Hey, Sparkplug!" I called, not trying to hide my irritation. Sparkplug looked in my direction. He seemed surprised. I felt a brief surge of doubt, and the thought crossed my mind that maybe I shouldn't be doing this. But I shoved that thought away. I needed an explanation. Now. This couldn't wait.

I transformed and looked him square in the eye to show him that I was serious. My spark was pulsating faster than usual. "I need to talk to you," I said.

Sparkplug stared at me for a second, like he was trying to figure out what this punk wanted from him. Then, after that hesitation, he dismissed the guy he had been talking to and turned back to me. "Well, I'm listening," he said.

I hesitated. His complete attention hadn't been what I was expecting, and it threw me off. He was waiting, boring into me with those red eyes, and suddenly I didn't know what to say. I felt pretty stupid. Maybe I was going about this all wrong. "Look," I started, after a while. I was trying to suppress my anger and muster up my courage at the same time. Both took effort. I had to speak slowly. "My name is Grid," I pronounced slowly, "and-"

"Wait" he said, interrupting me. "You say you're name is Grid? Could you maybe… remind me…"

I sighed, a little exasperated. Hadn't Hal and the others said all the officers knew everyone's name? Wait. No… I suddenly had a moment of clarity. Hal only mentioned that _High Wire_ had known his name. He hadn't said anything about any of the other leaders. With that in mind, I reeled my emotions back in, rather than snapping at him like I was about to. "You've got a list or something right? Look me up," I struggled.

Sparkplug looked at me, a second longer. I didn't like the expression he was giving me. It seemed wary and degrading, or maybe I just seeing that in everyone now. He reached into his chest compartment and pulled out a screen. The exact same screen I'd seen Leader-1 reading yesterday. (Was that really yesterday? It seemed like weeks ago.)

I had a second to study Sparkplug. The most notable, and unusual, thing about him was his face. I mentioned this already, but hardly any of us have a full humanoid face. I knew my face was inhuman looking, but at least I had two individual eyes. Some minicons, like Leader-1 for example, don't even have _that _going for them. And Blackout lacked a face completely.

But Sparkplug was different. Not only did he have an actual mouth, which is rare enough, the top half of his head was also exactly like the average Transformer's, not marked by any plate or visor. Unlike Transformers, however, our language (which to my ears, doesn't sound any different from the one they use) doesn't require that air to escape from our faces, so Sparkplug's mouth always remained closed, even when he spoke. Still, it served a function in that it made his expressions much easier to read. Actually, it was less like reading than watching a display on a giant screen. I could practically read his mind; everything he felt was just so obvious. Now, I saw him wear a searching look as he skimmed for my name, saw his eyes widen slightly when he found it, saw his mouth fold into a frown when he read it, and, finally, saw a wave of clarity come over his whole countenance. He knew what this was about, I could tell.

"Oh," he said, blinking. The way he said it made me think that the word "slag" should've come after it. _Oh, slag._ He looked back up at me. "I suppose you're here to ask about your, um, assignment?"

"Yes," I sighed, relieved that I didn't have to bring it up myself. Then, as if Sparkplug had said some kind of magic spell, a reservoir in me broke, and the words rushed out. "Why did you give me the same assignment twice in a row?" I demanded. A small part of me was a little surprised at this outburst. "Just, why? I mean, everyone else got a change except me. Why is that? Is it just random? Could I maybe trade with somebody? Is-"

"Okay, calm down, calm down," Sparkplug said, holding up his hands. He spoke calmly and patiently. Like the way he would talk to a whining sparkling. "One thing at a time. Now, what was your first question, again?"

I felt yet another surge of irritation. This guy was getting on my nerves. He wanted to take it slow, and I was in a hurry. I tried to reel my emotions back in again, but it was harder this time. Whatever emotion I had on my line, it was big, and it didn't want to come in. It took a lot of effort to keep it under control. _Steady, Grid,_ I reminded myself. _Steady._

"Why wasn't I given a new assignment?" I asked slowly, trying very hard to command my own voice. Against my will, my right hand clenched itself into a fist. I moved it behind my back so he wouldn't see.

Sparkplug's eyes widened, giving him a worried kind of look. He looked to me like he was trying to find a way out. He paused like that for a few seconds. He stood up a little taller. Then, he said, "Well, you know that a team can't function properly unless everything and everyone is in order, right?"

"Right," I said cautiously, wondering where he was going with this.

"And that if even one member of the team doesn't work well with the others, the entire collective group suffers for it?" he asked.

"Sure," I said in the same tone, still not seeing how this was relevant.

"So, with that in mind, we considered your, um, unique background," he said, pausing now and again to find the right words. The words with the least meaning. "And we decided that it would be best if you were detained here until we were sure about your status as a team member."

It took me a second to work out what he was _really_ saying. "So what you're saying is, you don't trust me," I practically growled. I tried to do the reel thing with my feelings again, but it was getting more and more difficult. They surged, trying to break free, heedless of my struggles. I felt my engines revving. My left hand folded itself into a fist, too. I tried to hide it just like I did with the first. _Easy,_ I warned myself. _Stay calm. Stay._

"Well," Sparkplug hesitated. "I wouldn't… yes," he finally sighed. A pause. "Look, Grid. I'm sorry, but-"

Too late! The line snapped and the surging monster was free. I exploded. "Don't 'I'm sorry" me!" I snapped, making several heads turn in my direction. I ignored them. I was seeing red. "And don't you dare stand there and patronize me with… with your fancy, meaningless words and stupid speeches! You don't trust me!? Why!? What have I done!? I already promised that I wouldn't steal anymore! I gave it up, didn't you hear!? I already got a fixer bug load of slag from one fraghead! I don't need more!"

"Grid."

"So I made a mistake! Big deal! Everyone does! We all fall! We all trip up! It happens! So why is it that when _I _do something wrong, _everyone_ jumps on my back for it! I mean, it's not like I _like_ stealing! I had to! It was life or death out there! I had to! Don't you see!?"

"Grid!"

"I mean, what was I supposed to do!? Go door to door _asking_ for oil!? Do you know what that would've gotten me!? DO YOU KNOW!?"

"GRID!"

I stopped rambling. I stared at Sparkplug with wide eyes. I don't really know if I was overwhelmed by how much I had said, or if I was daring him to say something. My feelings from that moment aren't exactly clear. At any rate, a small part of me felt somewhat relieved. As if I had wanted to get that out of my system for years.

That didn't mean I wasn't still seething.

Sparkplug was looking straight at me. He seemed troubled. I felt a dark surge of triumph. _Now _I had his full attention.

"Believe me!" he said in what I guess was supposed to be a reassuring tone. "I know what it's like to live out there! I know that all the odds are against you, and I know that one could be driven to do things they wouldn't normally do! Drastic times call for drastic measures, yes?"

I didn't answer. I didn't trust myself to.

"To me," he went on, "The idea of stealing from other minicons… _from your own kind,_ is unthinkable. But, I suppose the reason I never considered it seriously was because, well, I never got the chance. I was captured very early on, you see…"

Through my agitation, I blinked in surprise. Sparkplug had been captured? I hadn't known that.

I noticed that Sparkplug hadn't had the right facial expression when he said that last part. "I was captured" was something you were supposed to say with a shaking voice, a look of terror, the eyes of someone being forced to remember something that they never wanted to think about again. That hadn't been the case with Sparkplug. He had grown quiet, and he looked regretful, but it was small, very small. I even thought I saw a brief flash of a _smile_ on that open-face-that-hid-nothing. But it faded quickly.

I couldn't possibly fathom where that smile had come from. It certainly didn't belong here.

I only had a second to note these things before I heard Sparkplug sigh. "And… you were right, Grid. I shouldn't have tried to cover up what we decided with all that… that dribble. I should've been more straightforward with you. I'm sorry, it's just that…" Another sigh. He covered both of his red eyes with his hand, like he was embarrassed. "I hate this part of my job," he murmured.

My shoulders relaxed a little. I felt myself softening towards Sparkplug. I see, it was all so clear. He'd started off by asking me to speak slowly and repeat things. Then, when he realized he would have to tell me something that I wouldn't like, he tried to sound professional and use big words to "explain" things, hoping that such euphemisms would make it sound better. And when it didn't (not by a long shot,) he got all flustered and embarrassed, and apologized over the mistake he'd made. He had also mentioned, however briefly, that he had failed where others did not. Here was a guy who clearly felt that he didn't know what he was doing. I could sympathize with that.

But there was still something that was bothering me. Something I needed to know. "But," I started, calmer now, but not exactly what you would call "cheerful" either, "if all that's true, then why exactly don't you trust me?"

Sparkplug removed his hand from his eyes. "You see…" he began, then stopped himself. He peered at me. "You want me to speak frankly right?" he asked. I nodded.

"Well, simply put, you may very well dislike stealing, and you may have given it up, but the simple, frank fact is that you've been solitary, living alone for most of your life. You've trained yourself, however unconsciously, to look out for you and you alone," he paused there and gave me a very critical gaze that reminded me of Leader-1. I gulped. I wasn't sure if I liked this explanation better, after all. "Take for instance, your friend Blackout? He was also 'detained' here, so to speak, but in your rage, you did not mention him."

Another gulp. I couldn't deny it. I had even noted this earlier. To recap, all I could focus on coming over here was me. I hadn't given Blackout a second thought. Is that what he meant by "status as a team member?" "So… are you saying you're keeping me here because… I'm selfish?"

I felt like a sparkling, asking him a question like that. He shook his head and said no. "Not that you're selfish exactly. It's just that you really don't know what it's like to work in a team," said Sparkplug. "You probably _do_ have the skill required to go on missions outside, but until we know you can function with a group, for the group, you have to stay here."

I groaned. "Is that really _that_ important?" I asked.

"Yes, it really is," Sparkplug said coolly. "There are certain… uh… difficulties encountered in missions that would be problematic for a solitary soldier, but absolutely disastrous in a group. Like, say, tripping an alarm, for instance."

My mind flashed back to three nights before, the night I'd met Dirge. When I had robbed the minicon ship, I had set off the alarm. It had freaked me out, sure, but it wasn't a huge crisis. I had gotten out of there alright. There was a pretty low chance that that sentry-bot would've gotten me. Now that I was looking back from a safe distance, I could see that. But if I'd had a group with me… I nodded glumly. I saw what he meant. I _would_ be the one to doom everyone, wouldn't I?

For one nervous second, I wondered if maybe Sparkplug knew about that little incident. But, then again, how could he?

"And there's also the problem of following orders. But that shouldn't be too hard," he was going on.

Suddenly, something occurred to me. "Wait a nanoclick, let me clarify this," I said, holding out both my hands. "You're keeping me here, _not_ because I'm a thief, but because I'm a _loner._ Is that right?"

Sparkplug nodded, smiling a little. "That's right," he said.

The surging beast was completely gone now. I sighed, relieved. I don't know why knowing that fact made me feel so much better. It didn't change anything. I was still stuck in here with this ship, doing hard, tedious work with people who didn't even like me. But it did. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted from me.

"However," he added slyly. "If anything goes missing, you'll be the first one we'll question. You know that right?" He was grinning.

I was glaring. Sparkplug laughed. "I'm just kidding," he said. His smile was gentle. "Why doesn't anyone get my sense of humor?" he asked.

I looked away, annoyed. This talk with Sparkplug was tiring. (Even more so considering my sleepless night.) I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster. First, I had been mad as the pit, then sympathetic, then a little guilty, then annoyed. And who knows what would be next? I sighed. The twists and turns on this coaster were making me sick. Would it ever end?

If only I had known. I hadn't felt anything yet.

"What do I need to do?" I asked, changing the subject. The "teamwork" thing, for all its frankness, had been awfully vague. I wondered if there was some sort of criteria they wanted me to meet. Some sort of test I had to take to prove my… my _team peppiness._ Or something.

Sparkplug looked sympathetic. He obviously saw how clueless I was. "You need to change," he said, "And all you really need to do that is to get over this fear that you have."

_Huh?_ That got my attention. I looked up, confused. I hadn't mentioned any of my fears to him. And even if I had, what did they have to do with anything? Where on Cybertron had that come from?

"What fear?" I asked, puzzled.

"You're fear of getting hurt," he said. There was no emotion, really, in his voice. He was just stating a fact.

I was more confused than ever. My mind reeled and searched busily, trying to see what he was talking about. It found no answer. It was true that I used to not want to be near people. It was true that the very thought of "making friends" used to make me mentally cringe. And I had been pretty sure I knew the reasons. Embarrassment? Yes. Guilt? That, too. But _fear?_ Was I really hesitant about being with others because I thought they were going to _attack me?_ I instantly rejected the thought and began questioning Sparkplug's sanity… Yet, some part of me, deep in my spark, knew that that wasn't what he meant at all.

"Wh-What?" I stuttered, disbelieving. "What on Cybertron are you talking about? I mean, I… That just…I never… What?" My confusion was being manifested in my speech, everything coming out as utter nonsense. Sparkplug was watching me intently. I must've been amusing him (again,) but it didn't show on his face. He waited for me to stop ranting before he filled me in.

"Grid," he said once I had finally shut up, "it's completely obvious that the reason you're hesitant to open up to others is because you're afraid. There is a fear in you that is preventing you from getting near other people." He saw me making a move to interrupt him and held up his hand to keep me quiet for just a second longer. "You might not be conscious of this fear," he said firmly, "but it's there."

"Come on, Sparkplug," I said, though my tone was more agitated and didn't at all match the carefree meaning that the words carried, "You can't seriously be saying that I'm being held here because… because I'm a-" I had been about to say _coward,_ but Sparkplug cut me off.

"You don't seem to understand what I'm really telling you," he said, sounding concerned. He waited to see if I was listening. I was. "You are not a coward, Grid," he told me, accurately guessing my thoughts, "The fear that you have is not at all an uncommon one. Many people possess it and must learn to overcome it. That fear is based on this: The possibility that the people close to you will hurt you. And I don't mean physically harming you," he added, seeing what I was about to say. "Rather, I am speaking of an emotional pain, which actually has the potential to be far worse. When you get close to someone, you make yourself vulnerable because you reveal to them parts of yourself that you would normally keep hidden. This person now has tools with which to harm you, if they so desire. But that is only one part of the issue. In knowing someone, you have all of_ their_ weaknesses revealed to you, and that's frightening. Some people have pain that they must share, and to be on the receiving end of that pressure…" he sighed. "That is something that shifts and changes everything and could, possibly, change the way you think forever. You're afraid of traveling into this unknown world, and that is why you are alone."

"But I've-!"

"I know that you have made some acquaintances while you're here," he said, cutting me off again. "That _is_ making progress, but how well do you _really_ know these people? Can you tell me, for example, their worst fear? Their greatest desire? Or even, what they were doing the day before they came here? You've met at least one person who has been captured in the past, correct? Can you even tell me what _side_ their bulk is on?"

I felt something like a jolt ripple through me at these words. The shock had no shape or form. It was wordless, but definite. I suddenly felt like I was on the streets of Cybertron again, having to steal to survive, completely alone. (The freedom that they had symbolized just an hour ago was dashed.) I looked away, not answering any of Sparkplug's questions. Because I couldn't, of course. I didn't know any of the answers. I didn't know anything.

Sparkplug nodded, as if I _had _given him an answer, and it had been the right one. He continued. "Once you know someone, _really_ know someone, there is no turning back. You can never see that person the same way again. You cannot simply go back to the way things were and forget everything you have learned about them. The damage has been done. There is no way to reverse it." He grew solemn. "Friendship brings joy and pain in equal measures," he said quietly. I suddenly grew uncomfortable. The statement seemed ominous, somehow.

"And of course," he added, changing the subject slightly, "there is always the possibility that you might someday lose this person. Time might be the only culprit, the long stellar cycles pulling you apart. Or it may be something else. Some accident. Something that, Primus forbid, would ensure that you never see each other ever again." I shuddered. I knew what he meant by that. "Either way, the loss is hard," he went on, "Though the second is probably the more painful of the two. Losing a friend… there is no worse pain than that."

Everything he was saying was starting to sound really morbid. I shook my head. Not in a disagreeing way, more like a confounded way. I couldn't fully absorb everything that Sparkplug was saying. Not yet. There wasn't enough room inside me for all this knowledge.

"Teamwork doesn't need to require intimacy," Sparkplug went on. "It does, however, require the ability to branch out to others in spite of fear, something you do not currently have." I didn't react to that. Primus, did he really have to keep rubbing it in? Couldn't I have just been satisfied that they didn't see me as a scoundrel and move on. No. No, I always have to bite more than I can swallow. Always.

"But Grid," he half-called, trying to get my attention back. I looked up wearily. "You do have the capacity to gain this ability. I fully believe that."

I was skeptical. "Really?" I asked flatly. "You're not just saying that because you're supposed to?"

Sparkplug laughed. "You seem to have a pretty good idea about how things work around here!" he chuckled. "But no, I really do mean it. Nobody told me to say that. If you're everything that you claim to be, then you should be able to earn our trust in no time," he said.

I was no longer sagging, but I still didn't believe. "I don't think so," I muttered.

"Oh, come now," Sparkplug coaxed. "All you really have to do is summon up your courage. Can you do that Grid?"

"No."

"Well, that's a start right there," Sparkplug shrugged. "It takes a lot of courage to admit you have none."

I stared. "Wh-What did you just say?" I asked faintly.

"Oh, nothing really," he told me in a dismissive tone. "Just something I thought of. Anyway, I really can't help you any further. You should probably go. There appears to be a crowd gathering."

I looked around and flushed even redder than I already was. There _was_ a crowd gathering. I don't know the exact reasons they all came over in the first place, whether it was to chat with friends or with Sparkplug himself, but now, all their focus was on us. It was like the day I met Inferno; I was in a ring with one other person facing me and tons of strangers all around me. They were all staring with looks of extreme interest.

I probably should've said goodbye to Sparkplug. Or thank you. Or _something. _But I guess the combination of both the fact that one of the most personal and humiliating conversations I had ever had in my life was engraved in the minds of countless others (and would no doubt be a source of gossip for a long time) _and_ hearing my owns words come from someone who I'd previously thought wasn't anything like me had screwed up my thought process. I just scowled, muttered a quick, "See ya," transformed, and drove off.

As I was driving away, I swore I heard Sparkplug call, "Remember what I told you, Grid!"… But, that might've just been my own mind, lecturing me in Sparkplug's voice.

I kept going, just speeding ahead aimlessly, until I was sure I was out of Sparkplug's line of sight. How often have you seen me like this? Speeding off to get away from something. Trying to avoid and escape from what I don't like. It feels like I'm always running.

Like I'm always afraid.

See, that's the thing. Sparkplug's words were still echoing around in my head incoherently and wouldn't stop. It ran like this, _"There is always the possibility… joy and pain… Either way is hard… no worse pain… no way to reverse it… you are alone._

"_You are afraid."_

_It's not true,_ I thought, slowing down to a stop. _It's not true. I'm not afraid. I'm _not._ Sparkplug doesn't know what he's talking about. Until he looked at that dumb list, he didn't even know who I was. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know anything._ But all this angst wasn't worth much because I knew he was right. Everything he'd said sounded so bizarre… and yet, so familiar. It was true what he'd said. I _was _scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of being left alone again. Scared of that "unknown." Scared of everything he'd said I was. He was right. Everything he'd said about me had been correct.

But did that include the last part? Was it true that I was brave? It certainly didn't feel true. Out of all the weird things he'd said, that was the weirdest. And the one thing, I was certain, that wasn't true. I had courage? Me? Don't make me laugh.

Why is it that it's so easy to see all the bad things about ourselves, but we have such a hard time believing the good? Why do we have that mindset? Why is that far healthier train of thought constantly closed for repair? I had no idea. Still don't.

Thankfully, I wasn't left to brood for much longer because I heard a familiar engine hum (that was less like a hum and more like the engine had been kicked around a lot and seriously needed a vacation) and screech of strained tires. Blackout was coming, and leaving waves in the crowd in his wake, sort of like a motor boat. At least, that's what the jumping and diving of the people trying to get out of his way reminded me of. Still in vehicle mode, I swiveled around to face him. I knew he was coming right at me. He _always _is.

"Hey, Blackout," I said, trying not to show how tired I was. "So, did you figure out why they're holding you back?"

Blackout didn't transform either. He just drove up to me and made a _huff_ type noise, which was a small warning that I was about to get an earful. "Yeah," he grumbled. "Longarm found me before I could get to Leader-1."

"You were going to Leader-1?" I asked, surprised. "Why?"

"Because he's fragging awesome, that's why!" Blackout shouted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Primus, don't interrupt me with silly questions, Gridsy."

"Don't call-"

"Anyhow!" he interrupted, "Get this. Longarm told me that I have to stay at the base because I 'need to recuperate.'" There was a sarcastic mocking tone in his voice at that last phrase. I was reminded of Grindor. "He told me he wanted to keep an eye on my injury! For Primus' sake, _I don't have an injury!_ I feel great! I'm stuck here because Longarm doesn't think I can take a little heat! Can you believe that!?" He was really fuming now. I was starting to feel the heat a little too, to be honest. Blackout was fine! I had proof. Look how hyper… I mean, _full of energy_ he was. I secretly suspected that they were afraid Blackout would screw something up, and they were trying to stall him as long as possible. Grindor's idea, no doubt.

I do not hold a very high opinion of authority, do I?

Blackout was pouting now. "Of all the rotten…" he muttered, "I have to stay here for two more days just because…"

"Just two more days!?" I suddenly blurted. "Well, that's great for you!" I've always been particularly quick to anger, and now I was back, full throttle. "Me? I'm stuck here until…" I suddenly caught myself and stopped.

"…'Til what, Gridsy?" Blackout asked. The anger was gone, replaced by curiosity.

I didn't answer. I remembered what Sparkplug had told me, and how I'd forgotten Blackout, and I didn't have the spark to tell him why I had to stay. That was the fear getting at me again.

"Ah, nothing," I hedged. "They just told me that I need to change. That's all." Well, at least that was true.

"Pshaw," snorted Blackout, making a noise to show his disapproval. "That's the most ridiculous noise I ever heard. You don't need to change. You're fine the way you are."

I perked up. No one had ever told me anything like that before. "Really?" I asked.

"Sure!" answered Blackout enthusiastically. "Slag, do I have to spell it out for you? No one else stood up to Inferno! No one else bothered to help me when I didn't know which way was up! It was all you. That took a lot of guts, Gridsy."

I was more astounded then ever. "I guess so…" I said. There was nothing else I could say.

Blackout laughed and, to my chagrin, bumped me not so gently on my side (scratching the paint, no doubt.) "You know what you're problem is, Gridsy?" he asked before I had a chance to splutter at him. "You're problem is you're too slagging hard on yourself. You've got enough angst to fill a well!" He seemed very proud of himself for coming to that conclusion.

Beneath my car mode, I scowled. I'd almost forgotten what a pain Blackout could be. "Oh, what would I ever do without you?" I growled sarcastically.

"You're life would be a lot more peaceful and quiet, that's for sure!" yelled Blackout, still laughing. "Now c'mon, let's go find Hal. He's probably wondering what's taking us so long…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Even more boring than the last one! (I need to learn to stop saying stuff like that.)

Writing this chapter was difficult because while I was typing it, I encountered every artist's worst nightmare: Creative Block. I had the chapter around half-written, and I had pretty much planned the direction I wanted it to go in. Trouble is, it didn't feel right. How did Yann Martel put it? Oh, it was, "emotionally dead," that was the problem. So I gave the chapter a complete overhaul. Starting from the point where Grid says, "What do I need to do?..." the whole chapter is different from what I originally had planned. Behind the scenes!

I really don't have anything else to say, except I'm really looking forward to writing the next chapter.

And maybe I'm laying it on a little too thick with the foreshadowing. But it's just so much fun!

'Til next time! Enjoy!


	10. Question

**Question**

Next day. Same as the last two. Get up. Roll call. Then work all day. Then sleep.

But today there was a twist. A big one. A lot of things happened today that _weren't_ the same. And I figured that they would all add up in the end. Add up to something huge.

The day started like this: After a pretty much dreamless sleep (a welcome break from the night before), I stirred and blinked sleepily, trying to bring the world into focus. It was morning. I could tell that much, even though there were no windows. My mind still in a fog, I groaned a little and turned over.

Right into Blackout. He was standing right next to me, his faceplate taking up every corner of my vision…

I yelled and jumped back, slamming into the upper bunk. Really hard. I leaned forward and spluttered every swear word I'd ever heard, cringing with pain. Blackout didn't react to any of this. The fraghead was standing right next to my bunk, stooping down a little, just _staring_ at me. His posture was that of a school kid really hoping to get a sparkly sticker from his teacher. His happy-go-lucky attitude combined with his stalker tendencies were enough to infuriate me. The profanities continued. Primus, was this guy _trying_ to drive me over the edge? (Don't answer that.)

"Morning Gridsy!" he said in his cheerful, oblivious way. He was obviously a morning person. I hate morning people. "Did you sleep okay?"

"What the frag is your problem!?" I snapped, still rubbing my head. Such an ordinary question after such a rude awakening just made my vision redder. "What the pit are you doing!? You nearly gave me a spark attack!"

Blackout cocked his head to the side, like he didn't get what I was so mad about. "So you didn't sleep okay?" he asked me in an injured tone.

"Answer me, slaggit!"

"Don't get what you're so mad about, Gridsy," he sighed in that faux innocent tone of his. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't sleep in again." He shrugged in an imitation of a person with infinite patience. "You're always the last one up, so I wanted to make sure you were wide awake-"

"I'LL KILL YOU!" I roared. I lunged towards him.

Now, Hal had already left that morning to do… whatever it was that scouts did exactly. I thought that this meant that nobody would hold me back, that I could finally get my sweet revenge on the idiot standing before me. Unluckily for me, however, somebody _else _saw me and realized immediately what was happening. This guy got right between the two of us and began pushing me back as hard as he could. I struggled against him, the whole time flailing and straining my arms to try and reach Blackout. He was always at least an inch from my grasp.

"Let me go!" I hissed, still straining. "I promise I won't hurt him!"

"That's a lie!" the other guy said. "Please, Grid! Calm down!"

Eventually, I did calm down enough for the other guy to let me go. I considered lunging at Blackout again once he had gone away, but I decided it wasn't worth the energy.

Blackout was laughing like this was the funniest thing he'd seen in a long time. "You see, Gridsy?" he exclaimed, "That's that 'angst' problem that I was talking about yesterday. Still need to work on it, I see!"

I growled, sliding off the bunk. "Two more days stuck with you," I muttered darkly, "I'm going to go crazy!"

Blackout looked away, pretending to be hurt. "Well!" he said hotly. He sniffed and turned back to me. His voice took on a playful lecturing tone. "Aw, don't feel bad, Gridsy. I want to get out of here just as much as you." He raised his fist to the sky in a heroic-like pose. "Look out Raid! Here I come!"

I snorted. "I hate to break it to you," I told him coldly, "But there's no way they're letting you on the Raiding Team." I was frowning. His suicidal obsession with the Raiding Team was getting on my nerves. (Just like everything else about him.) I sighed. "It's just as well," I muttered, "You'll probably just get killed anyway. Or caught." That's me. Minicon Grid, dream killer.

Blackout shook his head vigorously. "I wouldn't have gotten killed this time!" he shouted defiantly. I caught the way he emphasized "this time," as if this time would be any different from the next. "Wanna know why?"

"I think I'm about to find out," I groaned.

Blackout ignored that and told me anyway. "Leader-1 is supposed to lead the raid this time!" he shouted proudly.

I hadn't expect that. "What?" I asked, staring, "Seriously? Where did you hear that?"

Blackout was pleased that he got to be the news conveyer. "Somebody found out, I guess. Word gets around, you know," he babbled. He shrugged. "Actually, it's pretty common knowledge now." I touch of sly cunning crept into his voice. I cringed. I knew that tone. "Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early, you wouldn't be so ignorant about gossip!"

I scowled. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, scowling and frowning. "Shut up!" I yelled. "I get tired!"

I have to say, even though my mood wasn't improving any, I could see why Blackout was so confident about Leader-1 leading the raid. I couldn't really imagine this mission, _any _mission, going wrong with Leader-1 as, well, leader. He just seemed so _competent._ For once I agreed with Blackout. With Leader-1 out there today, there was zero percent chance that anyone would be killed.

Or caught.

Anyway, Blackout was thinking of some sort of wisecrack he could throw at me, when the ceiling pinged. "Attention," said the intercom in Sparkplug's voice, "All Minicons who are with the Construction Team please report to the hangar as soon as possible. That is all." The crackling stopped. For half a second, there was silence.

As usual, Blackout was the first to kill it. "Well, we better get going, Gridsy!" he said, jumping behind me and shoving me towards the door. "That ship's not gonna build itself!"

* * *

Again, same routine as the past two days. Report to the hangar. Line up. Roll call. Same exact thing. Or not.

Leader-1 was still there.

Everyone in the room stared, surprised. It was true what Blackout had said. It _was_ common knowledge that Leader-1 was going out and wouldn't be back for two days. Yet, here he was, standing before us and holding that same electronic list that he'd had before. He was gazing at us with raised optics, probably wondering what were gawking and whispering about.

"Hello," he said calmly. "Glad to see that you were all able to get here so quickly."

We were still staring dumbly. Maybe the rumor had been false? But even if it was, shouldn't Leader-1 still be somewhere else? Surely the officers rotated, same as everyone else.

Someone eventually got bold enough to ask. "Er, Leader-1? What are you doing here?" a person behind me inquired. "Shouldn't you be out on the raid?"

"Change of plans," he said coolly, not looking up. He seemed like he had been expecting this question. "I decided that I would be more useful here, where I could help with the ship's construction."

I shook my head before I could stop myself. There 's no way Leader-1 was here to "help with the ship's construction" or whatever he had said. I mean, c'mon. I had seen what Leader-1's craftsmanship skills were like. The guy probably couldn't make a house out of wooden blocks. If he helped build the ship, it would be a regular shuttle wreck. There's no way he could be more useful here than out there. Just what was he trying to pull?

I realized what I was doing and stopped myself hastily. I glanced up to see if Leader-1 had noticed my negative reaction. He hadn't.

"And I haven't been feeling well lately anyway. So, it is of no consequence," Leader-1 finished. He looked down.

What, this again? Was he referring to yesterday morning? He had looked pretty bad then, wearing that dark and pained expression that's cause we could only guess at. Even Hal had commented that he looked, "sick." On the other hand, last night, when High Wire arrived, he'd looked fine. The pain and "sickness" had been completely washed away. Even now, he looked like the old Leader-1.

I heard murmurs going through the group, like a swarm of flies. No one but Elita and I probably knew about Leader-1's "inept construction," to put it in Sparkplug terms. Everyone, however, could see the state of Leader-1's health. It was perfect, or nearly so.

Blackout was the bold one this time. "You look fine to me, 'sarge," he said.

Leader-1 shot him a look that was clearly meant to make him shut up. "I don't recall asking for you're opinion," he said coldly.

For once, Blackout didn't say a word. Neither did anyone else, for that matter. We all suddenly had a strange desire to get the heck out of here and start working already.

Leader-1 didn't keep us waiting for very long. "Now, if we're all done _chatting,"_ he pronounced, "I'd like to get started." His tone was layered with ice. We cringed like a litter of puppies and remained silent. "I'm going to call all your names," he said louder and with less chill, "And when I do, I will also list the name of your Minicon partner for today. It in this two-person group that you will work on the ship in there." He pointed with his thumb in the correct direction.

"And don't try to do it by yourself," he went on, "Trust me. It doesn't work." Even though he didn't so much as look in my general direction when he said that last thing, I still felt like that comment was directed at me. Not a good feeling.

"Now pay attention," he ordered, "because I'm not going to repeat myself." He looked down at the list. "Jolt, you're with Sandstorm. Screw, you're with Axle. Inferno… Inferno! Quit your staring and pay attention!" Leader-1 was snapping (in a very tired, uncaring kind of way) at someone a few rows back and to the left of me. My thought process became disjoined. Inferno? Inferno was _here?_ I couldn't fathom why this would be. To be fair, if I had been thinking coherently, the reason would've been rather obvious. Unfortunately, all I found myself capable of thinking was, _Inferno's here? Behind _me?_ Here? That can't be… He's _here?And similar nonsense.

Before my head was completely clear, I whirled around. A small part of me thought that maybe this wasn't true. I scanned the crowd, searching frantically. Why the hurry, I don't know. Last time I had seen Inferno had been two days ago, and he hadn't even spoken to me then. Only glared. It wasn't like I was missing the sound of his voice or anything (slag no), but I wanted to meet him again. I felt like I needed to confront him or something.

There he was, three rows back. That was Inferno all right. Same hawk like expression, same monocle-optic. Same narrowed eyes. Around the same time I spotted him, he looked up towards me and our optics locked. He scowled. "You!" we both shouted at the exact same time.

Leader-1 seemed to realize what was about to go down because he instantly looked up in our direction. "Ah, somebody should probably stop them," he observed. The words had the implication of a command, but without any of the resolve. He seemed to realize it was useless. His voice had the tone of someone watching an inevitable event begin and didn't feel like wasting any energy in trying to prevent it.

We both broke rank and trudged our way through staring optics and whispering voices. The lines were hardly in order now, but we didn't notice. Neither of us looked anywhere but at each other while we were going. Inferno was scowling the whole way, and by the time I got there, so was I. I really hated this guy. I hadn't forgotten what he'd done to Blackout… and what he'd done to _me._ Granted, it had only been three days, but I bet that even if had been _three years,_ I still wouldn't have forgotten. It's easier to remember moments of injustice than moments of kindness.

When we were about three feet away from each other, we stopped, both glaring daggers into the other's eyes. The scary thing is, we both halted and raised our hands up into fists at the _exact same time._ As if that weren't bad enough, we both yelled, "What are _you _doing here!?" with our voices perfectly layered over one another. As if we had rehearsed this for days.

Inferno was (naturally) the first to start. "Shouldn't you be gone?" he spat.

"Shouldn't you be?" I countered, boiling.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Inferno hissed, more to himself than to me, "When I found out I was going to be detained here, the one positive thing I could find about this was that I would at least be able to get away from _you._ But, I suppose that was just too much to hope for."

"Believe me, I feel the same way," I snapped.

"You two. Stop your bickering and get over here," Leader-1 said lazily, looking at his list and not even pretending to be interested.

"Answer my question, thief," Inferno snarled, ignoring Leader-1. "Why are you here?"

I thought fast. "I felt like I needed a vacation," I said quickly.

"Really," he said, obviously not buying it.

"Yeah," I said, still wearing the scowl. "You know, roaming the streets at night, being a pariah and all that? Takes it out of you." The bitterness in my tone was unmistakable. "I mean, not everyone is lucky enough to have a _ship,_ you know."

I had been aiming for a nerve, and I'd hit it. Inferno was suddenly furious. "Yes," he seethed. "A ship is a convenient thing to have, it's true. Too bad I don't_ have one any more."_

"_Not. My. Fault,"_ I hissed, punching out each word.

"Seriously, guys. Enough is enough. Don't make me come over there," I heard Leader-1 call, still not sounding very interested.

We both continued to ignore Leader-1. My anger was flaring, and I almost found it amusing that I had thought I had been furious last night with Sparkplug. Last night? No. Now? Oh, yes. Part of me would've like nothing better than to smack Inferno, the way he'd punched Blackout. On the other hand, there was no way I was going to sink to his level.

It also wasn't helping the situation any that Blackout had started a chorus of: "Punch him in the face, Gridsy! Punch him in the face!" His voice gave the impression of one who was highly entertained.

I whirled around. "Stay out of this, Blackout!" I snapped.

It suddenly occurred to me that if Inferno didn't know I was here, there was a pretty slim chance that he would know about Blackout. "Blackout?" he asked, sounding surprised. At the sound of his voice, I turned around. The fury was starting to creep back into his face. "He's here too?" He glared at me, as if this was somehow my fault. "What is this? The Idiot Brigade?"

"Yeah," I growled a second time, "it is. You want to lead? You definitely meet all the requirements." Lame, I know. Shut up. Like you could've done better.

Inferno snorted at my attempted insult. "Whatever. Just keep that little cretin away from me."

"I'm not his keeper," I shot back. I was starting to get really sick of this. "Man," I hissed, "why do you hate me so much? Honestly, it was just a few barrels of oil. I've never hurt you, and neither has Blackout." ("You tell 'im, Gridsy!") "So what's with all this needless anger?" I felt my voice rising. Throughout this whole thing, I hadn't shouted once, and now I was. "You've got some serious issues, you know that!?" I finished.

For a second, I got the satisfaction of watching Inferno hesitate. But then a bit of venom began to show in his face. When he spoke, his voice was dripping with it. I knew this couldn't mean anything good, but there was no time to brace myself. "I have issues? Really? You're hardly the one to talk."

Now, I hesitated. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Oh come now, don't pretend to be any more idiotic than you already are. Everyone heard you shouting at Sparkplug last night. That's quite a nasty temper you have." When I didn't respond, he added, with a kind of sadistic pleasure, "What was it that you were saying, again? They don't trust you, is that it? Poor Grid." He seemed very satisfied with himself.

That was it. I was going to clock him. No! No. Self-restraint. I flexed my hands and tried to relax. The line was about to snap again; I could feel it. But I couldn't let it. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction. I started thinking again. Something I could say, something to save myself. That something came to me in a flash. I straightened up. "Of course you heard that. I wouldn't be surprised if you were hanging around, with your cheap hiding trick." Not many people would know what I was talking about, but apparently a few did, as there was a shifting of knowing eyes. These people were grinning. The others just looked lost. "That's so typical," I said, feeling braver now, "Taking advantage of people's weaknesses, spying and stalking, hurting people who you know won't hurt you back. You act like you're so high and mighty, but you're no better than the decepticons!"

"I said, 'That's enough,'" a voice very close to my head snapped. At the same time, a felt a hand slam very hard on my upper back, right under the base of my neck.

It wasn't Inferno's hand. It was Leader-1's. I guess he had been waiting until the bickering got personal to intervene. The bot was standing right next to us, his hands still on both our backs. Inferno was cringing; I guess he had gotten the same smack in the same general place. Leader-1's goggle-like optics were flashing, almost menacingly. He was obviously not pleased.

He released us and stepped back, not once averting his eyes from ours. He turned to Inferno. "Inferno," he addressed, using his much louder commanding voice. "quit picking fights with everyone you see." He turned to me. "Grid, quit encouraging him."

I was indignant. "I am not 'encouraging' him!" I snapped hotly.

"Yes, you are," he told me.

"Are not!"

"Are."

"Are not!

"Are."

"Are not!"

"I'm right. You're wrong," he said quickly, turning from me. I didn't say anything more. Because, really, how are you supposed to argue with _that?_

"Listen to me," he said, raising his voice so that everyone could hear. "I understand you're anger. I think it's unreasonable and that you're both behaving like idiots, but I can understand the cause." He paused and leaned forward, his eyes daring us to interrupt him. We were silent.

"I will say this to you before anyone else can get the chance: you cannot be at each other's throats all the time," he almost-snapped. "Right now, our entire planet is at war. And the object of said war… is _us!_ Capturing _us!_ Enslaving _us!_ Becoming _our _masters! Do you understand? It's _us…"_ He pointed at the floor at his feet. "…Against _them!"_ He pointed behind him and up, as if to the sky. Or to a much-taller killer robot. "And if we waste our time fighting amongst ourselves, how can we possibly hope to escape this nightmare? Let alone rise above the war and defeat Unicron!"

I suddenly understood where he was going with this, and all the anger washed out of me. At his words, Sparkplug's own lecture began to ring in my audio receptors. I gulped. Just the night before, Sparkplug had told me to work on my people's skills, and here I was contemplating decking Inferno. I hung my head, ashamed.

"I know that you might feel that someone has wronged you in the past," he went on. You might think that he was talking to Inferno specifically for this part, but I could tell he was addressing both of us. "I understand that, too. But we can't cling to petty grudges out of pride. To survive this war, we all have had to do things that we regret. I… I would know this better than anyone. But we are a family. And as a family, we have to _forgive_ each other! That is the only way we can triumph over this… once and for all." He was finished. I was shocked. I'd heard all that "brothers" whiffle plenty of times, but I had no idea Leader-1 believed it. It seemed like a real eye-opener. On the other hand, if I followed that mindset, that would mean that Inferno was my brother. And so was Blackout. Yeesh. I wasn't ready to face that truth yet.

Another thing was nagging me. Why would Leader-1 know better than anyone the desperate things people do to survive? I wondered.

I had been following Leader-1's lecture/speech so closely I hadn't been watching Inferno's reaction. I looked now, and I could see it didn't quite have the same humbling effect on him that it had on me. In fact, it didn't seem to affect him at all. He was standing there with his arms folded, scowling.

"I have a right to know why this delinquent is still here," he demanded, totally ignoring everything Leader-1 just said. Charming guy.

"Actually, no," said Leader-1 coldly. "You have no such right. But I'll tell you anyway, just to get you to shut up." My spark sank into my lower chamber. He was actually going to tell him.

"We did not feel that Grid was quite prepared for the type of mission we wish to use him on, so we are keeping him here for training purposes," he told him. My spark leapt back into my chest, going a little higher than it was supposed to be. Did Leader-1 just tell a blatant lie for _my_ sake? No… It wasn't a _blatant_ lie. If you looked at everything from an extremely literal standpoint and didn't ask for details, then it wasn't a lie at all! _Genius!_

"And as for you," Leader-1 went on, stabbing a finger at Inferno, "if you can't learn to quit being a complete _imbecile,_ then there will be serious consequences." I noticed that Leader-1 expression almost perfectly matched Inferno's. He was obviously infuriated. "High Wire has told me that I'm not allowed to throw anyone out," he hissed menacingly, "That, however, does not mean that I'm not fully capable of making your life miserable."

"You can't do that!" Inferno shouted, not backing down. The very small part of me that didn't hate every part of Inferno was a little impressed. I'd never seen anyone who wasn't the least bit intimidated by Leader-1 the way Inferno was. I mean, even Blackout shuts up when Leader-1 tells him to. All around us, I heard murmurs, and I knew everyone else was thinking the same thing. It was like some sort of showdown had just broken out. Who would win? Leader-1? Or Inferno?

If I'd had any money, I would've put it all on Leader-1.

"Actually, I can," Leader-1 was saying, in response to Inferno, "I'm a higher rank than you, and you're being infuriating." I was just barely able to stop myself from throwing out a laugh. "Now both of you get back in line. We were supposed to have started building a long time ago." With that, he turned around and walked back up towards the front. I took that as a cue that the showdown was over and started to go back to where I was.

Inferno, however, didn't move. "And how did you achieve that high rank, may I ask? Seeing as you weren't there to help rally everyone together," he called after him.

Leader-1 stopped cold. Nobody was moving a servo. He turned around, and the expression he wore reminded me of that morning just a day ago. It looked panicked and anguished. It was like looking at a completely different Leader-1. "How… How did you know that?" he gasped.

"I didn't say anything, I swear!" I yelled, raising my hands in the air. The blank look Leader-1 gave me told me that he had no idea what I was talking about and that I had better shut up. Everyone else had stopped staring at Inferno and had resumed their normal habit of staring at me. I put my hands down, Flushing.

Some people were whispering; they obviously hadn't known this. But I did. Elita had told me. And, now that I thought of it, the only explanation she gave me as to why he was absent was that he was "busy." _"Busy with what?"_ I had asked. I hadn't gotten an answer. Inferno was right. No matter how much I liked Leader-1, there was no denying that that was suspicious. That didn't mean I didn't hate Inferno even more for bringing it up. Trust me, if you had seen the look on Leader-1's face, you would've hated him, too.

It certainly wasn't redeeming Inferno's image in my mind any that Leader-1's question was totally valid. How had Inferno found this out? I couldn't think of any way he could've gotten this information, other than that stalking habit of his. Unless Elita told him, but considering what a glitch head he is, that seems unlikely.

At any rate, it didn't seem like Inferno was going to answer Leader-1's question. He sensed that he had hit a weak spot and was smirking in that irritating way of his. "It seems to me," he said cruelly, "that you are neglecting your duties as a leader. Where were you when High Wire called you? Did you decide that it was none of your concern? Did you think that you would be 'more useful' away from here? Or did you just think that our problems weren't enough for you? If you're such a 'high-ranking' official, then why don't you tell me that?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Somebody was calling out Leader-1? Was daring to call him an incompetent leader? One glance at Leader-1 told me he couldn't believe it either. He was staring at Inferno, optics wide.

Most normal people would've stopped by now, seeing the damage they've done, but I think I've made it pretty obvious that Inferno is not a normal person. He just kept going. "And to make matters worse," he said, "you're slacking on your duties yet again! You were supposed to be on the Raiding Team for the next two days, correct? So why are you down here, instead of out there where you are truly needed? Where are you when your people need you, Leader-1?"

That was a huge blow, I could tell. Leader-1 looked as though Inferno had actually struck him. When he finally managed to find his voice, his usual resolve was gone. "I… I will not be lectured like this by the likes of you!" he cried. He was trying to shout but barely managed above a whisper.

"Although, now that I think of it," Inferno continued, ignoring him once again, "perhaps it's better that you're down here instead of doing what you're supposed to be. I mean, it seems to me that you are incredibly unreliable. Always shirking your responsibilities. Not really the sort of person I would want on the Raiding Team." Inferno paused, still smirking at Leader-1, who seemed to be beyond words.

"Weren't you the leader of Minicon Village D10?" Inferno asked, pointing. I saw, everyone saw, Leader-1 start violently when he said those words. Inferno seemed delighted. "Wasn't that village attacked? Most unfortunate." A pause. "You know, I spoke with some of the people who used to live in that village, and they claimed you were absent for most of the attack. I thought you irresponsible Leader-1, but really. Abandoning the entire village in their most desperate hour? That is much lower than I thought you capable of sinking to."

For the past few minutes, Leader-1 had seemed to be in a kind of trance. Now, he was snapping out of it with such force that the Minicons closest to him were starting to back away. Both his hands were clenched into fists. I could actually hear his engine revving. He seemed livid. _"…Abandoned?"_ he seethed, his words unable to keep up with his anger. "You… You actually think… that I… _abandoned?"_

"Oh, boy. He's in for it now!" I heard Blackout shout. I hated to admit it, but it seemed like he was right. Leader-1 looked pretty dangerous. If Inferno was smart, he would stop right where he was and walk away.

So naturally, Inferno felt that he must have the last word. "It's sad, really," he said coolly, "that High Wire would put his trust in such a coward. A coward who runs at the first sign of a crisis." Another pause. "You have never known real pain, have you Leader-1?" Inferno sneered. "You can't have, running like you do. Then again, it must be so much easier to escape to comfort than to watch the ones who depended on you _suffer."_

_BANG_

What just happened occurred so fast that I barely registered it. In less than a second, the power grid on Leader-1's chest had flipped over and spewed a single yellow shot, which thundered just past Inferno's head and exploded on the wall behind him. Screams filled the air. There had been a lot of people standing behind Inferno, and every single one of them had to dodge the florescent blast to avoid being scrapped. I had been standing pretty close to him myself, and I could feel the heat radiating from the pure energy and the smoke settling on my armor. When I got over the shock and looked back at Inferno, I saw him standing slightly turned, staring behind him to the ash that marked the place where blast had gone, looking shocked. As dire as I recognized the situation to be, I still felt a slimmer of satisfaction from Inferno's scared face. He had taken it too far and had realized it too late. Now he would pay.

I glanced back at Leader-1. His optics were flashing. He was beside himself. "You think I have never suffered?" he hissed, walking slowly towards Inferno. He stopped about an arm's length away from him. The power grid was pulsating madly, getting ready for a second shot. I don't know if Leader-1 had missed on purpose the first time, but he certainly wasn't going to this time.

"I have suffered more than you will ever know," he finished, low enough for only Inferno and I to hear. The power grid had stopped pulsating and now glowing, steadily growing brighter and brighter and _brighter…_

The noises that had started earlier had not stopped. Some of the Minicons were screaming their heads off, clearly terrified of what was about to happen. Others were silent, staring vacantly ahead, not seeming capable of believing what they were seeing. I heard someone in the crowd shout, "Leader-1, don't do it! He's not worth it!"

As for Inferno, he seemed frozen with this expression of terror that I would have dearly loved to record on camera. Apparently, he had forgotten that he could turn invisible because he didn't bother to escape or make himself melt into thin air like he had done before. He just stood rooted to the spot, clearly in shock.

There was this loud humming sound that accompanied the glowing. As the light grew steadily brighter, the humming got louder. It eventually got to the point where I had to cover my audio receptors for fear that they would burn out. Leader-1 was ignoring the sound; in fact, he was ignoring everything. He did not seem aware of the screaming masses. He did not seem aware of the searing light and sound. He did not seem aware of the smoke and the fact that I was dangerously close to his target. All he was aware of was Inferno. His blazing optics were rooted to his face.

The light and sound were unbearable. The grid couldn't take anymore. It was going to fire…

No. Just when we braced ourselves for the bang, the humming started to slowly die away, and the light began to fade. Leader-1's optics lost their fury. He had a horrified expression on his face, like he had just realized what he'd been about to do. His whole body relaxed; only his face stayed tense. The shot that had been about to drill a hole through Inferno a moment before continued to grow steadily smaller until, with a brief shower of sparks, it fizzled out completely.

Inferno seemed to realize he was not about to be scrapped. He relaxed slowly, as if he were afraid that a sudden movement might set Leader-1 off again. His expression, though, was still priceless. Shock takes a long time to wear off, let me tell you. Take everyone else in the room for instance. If you thought everyone had been afraid of Leader-1 before, you haven't seen anything yet.

Although Leader-1 was no longer holding Inferno at gunpoint, so to speak, the horrified expression on his face hadn't changed. For a few seconds (that seemed like hours) he just stood there, not moving, with the look of someone who had just woken up from a dream. Finally, he turned his head and looked at the ground, away from everybody. His optics dimmed. The shocked look had turned into one of shame. The grid flipped back over. The tension in the room relaxed a little.

But it didn't last long. As we all watched, Leader-1 straightened and walked even closer to Inferno, his head held high, looking defiant. Inferno stiffened. I saw his optics shift briefly to the door, and I figured he must have been calculated how much time he would need to disappear and get through it. At any rate, he didn't move.

Leader-1 didn't stop until he was right in front of Inferno, their faces less than a foot apart. He glowered at him and snarled in a voice we all had to strain to hear, "Your partner is Prowl. I suggest you start working immediately."

Inferno didn't seem to understand what he was telling him. Finally, he took control of himself and managed, in a slightly unnerved voice, "I-I can report you for this."

"Just. Go," hissed Leader-1. Inferno narrowed his eyes at him, transformed, and drove off.

Leader-1 looked up at one of the Minicons forming the border of the ring. "Prowl," he addressed quietly, "you heard me. Go."

Prowl looked like he'd rather walk up to the Autobots' door and knock three times instead of work with Inferno, but he didn't raise any objections. He just saluted, bowed, and ran after Inferno as if for his life.

I was just pitying Prowl for what was sure to be the worst day of his life when I saw Leader-1 turn to me. "Get back in line, soldier," he ordered.

I hesitated for a second. I sort of wanted to say something to him, but I had no idea what. Finally, I thought better of it and muttered a quick, "Yes, sir," before I sprinted towards the front of the cube, (or what was left of it, anyway).

Once I was back at the front, Leader-1 made his own slow way back. When he was at the head of us once again, he took out his list and began to scan it, as if nothing at all had happened. "Now… where was I?" he murmured.

A part of me, a big part, was overwhelmingly relieved that no one had gotten hurt. That Leader-1, despite whatever pain he was carrying, could keep going, pretending that everything was normal. But despite that, there was another slightly more buried part of me that was thinking something along the lines of, _Darn. So close._

* * *

_  
_

**Author's Notes:**

… Well that was… Different.

Yet another chapter that ended up being drastically different from what I originally planned. But hey, That's writing for ya'. Sometimes the characters just want to do their own thing. That's not a bad thing, in fact, it's a very good thing. It's just that, if it's going to happen a lot, this story's going to be even longer than I originally anticipated. And what did I predict earlier? Ninety chapters, was it? Woof.

I've decided I'm going to put a lot less "behind the scenes" tidbits because I think they take away from the actual story. Also, as of this chapter, I'm going to start capitalizing faction names. In all previous chapters, words like "decepticon" and "autobot" were typed in lowercase, but since every other fanfiction writer seems to be capitalizing them, I decided I will, too. However, I'm going to continued spelling "Minicon" the way I always have been, with no dash between the "I" and "C." I think it looks better that way.

I have a goal, now. It is my hope to get Grid off of Cybertron and on the moon by the end of the summer. But seeing how long this chapter was, that might not happen… No! Fight! I must fight! Wish me luck and please enjoy!


	11. Secret

**Secret**

Throughout the rest of Leader-1's roll call, everyone was completely silent. The atmosphere had become tense and blocky, like a makeshift wall of bricks. Nobody was daring to speak or move. The "confrontation," so to speak, with Inferno was fresh in our heads (having only happened just a few minutes ago), and, suddenly, in our minds, Leader-1 had become some sort of dangerous animal, one who would rip a Minicon apart limb by limb with the slightest provocation. And no one wanted to be the one to set him off.

Honestly though, for all our fear, Leader-1 wasn't acting like a dangerous animal. More like he had seen one. The horrified look he had worn earlier had not completely faded, giving him the appearance of someone with a ghost floating over his shoulder… one that made him feel guilty instead of scared, as if it was _his fault_ that the ghost was there.

He was trying; I can say that for him. He had resumed his reading of everyone's work partners, trying to look as though everything was normal and nothing really disturbing had just happened. Or, even, that something _had_ happened, but he just didn't care. But his usual calm tone was gone; his spark not in it.

I'm not entirely sure at what point I realized that he hadn't called my name yet. I mean with all the… uh… excitement, you wouldn't think I would still be capable of thinking about such trivial things. But you should never underestimate the power of pure, unfiltered _selfishness._ Somewhere between the twentieth and thirtieth person, it occurred to me that I still hadn't been called and that the number of people I could be partnered up with was quickly dwindling. Ridiculous, I know. It didn't matter; it didn't mean anything. The list wasn't in alphabetical order or anything. In fact, it didn't seem to be in any kind of order whatsoever. It was completely childish that I was even able to notice him not calling my name at all. But, still.

Leader-1 kept going. "Armorhide: Hawkeye. Iceberg: Ransack." Still my name hadn't been called. _Did he skip me?_ The question popped up before I could stop it. I wanted to look around, but I was hesitant, seeing as the last time I took a "look around," I nearly got into a fistfight with Inferno. I couldn't believe this. Why would Leader-1 skip me? He didn't skip Inferno. Heck, he sent him and Prowl off right away, without giving him any kind of punishment. This wasn't fair.

There I go, overreacting again.

The worst jolt of all came when Leader-1 paused after reading the last couple of names ("Nightscream: Ironhide. And don't try anything funny, kid. She's tough."), looked around at the block and said flatly, "Well, I think that's everyone," and started to walk away. Everyone began chattering (though in a somewhat subdued tone) and dispersing, leaving me standing at the front of the group like an idiot. I think I had a slight malfunction; I didn't seem to be able to quite register what just happened. Then the panic started up again. Oh, Primus, what horrible event awaited me this time?

Little did I know, it was worse than I could've ever imagined. Leader-1, who looked as though he was in the process of heading for the door, stopped mid-step and said, "Oh. I almost forgot. Grid, you're with Blackout. Now everyone get busy."

You see? Worse than I ever imagined!

"No!" I shouted in despair.

"Yes!" I heard Blackout exclaim happily. I'm pretty sure he was clapping. I wanted to kick him.

I was about ready to complain loudly about this, but then I stopped myself. What the heck was I _doing? _Did I really have the _nerve_ to complain to Leader-1 about being with Blackout when he had clearly suffered enough slag already? Was I really that selfish? That arrogant? No. No, no, this was fine. I would bear it. After all, I hung out with Blackout every… single… day… It wasn't anything I couldn't handle completely. I would not bring this up with him. _I would not._

At least, that's the train of thought I had when Leader-1 turned to me, noticed the way I was vacantly standing there doing nothing and the look on my face, and said, in the calmest voice I could imagine him producing, "Is something the matter, Grid?"

Okay, this was ridiculous. This guy should not have time to worry about me! He clearly had enough of his own problems. What the heck did he think he was doing? Was he really asking about _me?_ How _I _felt? I wanted to yell at him. _"Think about yourself for a change!"_

For a second I considered lying, saying everything was perfectly fine, and just walking away. But there was something in Leader-1's look of quiet expectation that made me come clean. I sighed and said, "Well, okay. Yeah. How come I'm partnered with Blackout?"

Leader-1's optics flickered off and on again in a kind of blink. I could imagine all too well why. I must've sounded like a sparkling. _Why do I have to play with _him?_ I don't_ wanna _play with him._

Then, get this, Leader-1 walked closer to me and said, with a completely straight face: "Well, Gridsy. I assumed you would get jealous if I put him with anyone else." I kid you not. That is exactly what he said.

I was incensed. "Wh-what's _that_ supposed to mean!?" I fumed.

There was still too much pain on Leader-1 face for him to really smile, but he managed to sound at least slightly amused. "Oh, calm down, Grid. I was just messing with you."

I felt my right optic twitch, just a little. Leader-1 starting on me was the last thing I needed! On the other hand, if this was making him feel even a little better, I certainly wasn't going to snap at him. This was the guy who had nearly turned Inferno into a donut, after all.

When Leader-1 spoke again, all the amusement was gone completely. (It's not like it was very deeply rooted in the first place.) "I'm sorry," he said, quietly "You want to know the real reason?" I nodded.

"We partnered you with Blackout for the simple reason that Blackout seems to listen to you." Leader-1 said, giving me a searching look. "That's why."

I stared. It seemed to me that Leader-1 was speaking a foreign language. "What?" I asked dumbly. Then I laughed uneasily. "No he doesn't!" I was grinning, waiting for him to tell me that he was joking again.

Leader-1 looked dead serious. "I mean it," he said. I could tell he thought he was being honest. I only continued staring. "Blackout listens to you. He's put his complete faith and trust in you. You're looking at me like I'm crazy. I know what you're thinking. 'There's no way…' right?" He attempted another smile. It fell flat. "Well, there is a way, apparently, and you've found it. You've earned Blackout's complete respect. And _that's_ something I can't say about anyone else."

"Have you-?" I started to splutter. "Have you even _seen _us together? Like, _at all?"_ My voiced sounded hysterical.

Leader-1 hacked up a really loud, uncomfortable laugh. It sounded painfully forced. "Honestly, I have," he said, seeming only vaguely amused. "And believe me, when he's around you, he's a lot calmer than he usually is. Did you happen to see him this morning? I wasn't aware he was capable of standing still for so long."

_You mean… He's actually worse!?_ I thought to him, still gaping. I was incredulous. I couldn't imagine Blackout being more, well, like himself than he already was. I was annoyed; no way this was true. No way. Leader-1 had to be making fun of me. Again.

I was also slightly humiliated that he'd mentioned the rude awakening I'd received earlier. And that he managed to accurately quote what I was thinking.

When I continued to gawk at him, he felt he had to elaborate further. "You remember what happened between Blackout and his…" He carefully stepped over Inferno's name. "…partner two days ago, yes?"

Of course.

"Naturally, High Wire was shocked when he found out. We all were. And embarrassed, too, I think. Some of us were, ah, fortunate enough…" He seemed to spit the word. "…to know personally the Minicon we had saddled Blackout with. We expected something like this from him, but not on the first day, and definitely not to that extreme." He sighed. Such a strange sound, coming from him. "I'm not really sure whose brilliant idea it was to pair those two up," he muttered. "It must've been random. But the point is, that we see mistakes like this, and this time around, we do try to fix them.

"For instance, two days ago, Inferno displayed what would _officially _be called 'aggressive behavior,' " Leader-1 continued bitterly. I couldn't help but notice the extra dose of irony he added to everything he said. Clearly, he felt the same way I did about such Sparkplug-like phrasing. "To try and tone this down, we wanted to partner Inferno with the nicest, most tolerant bot possible. So, he ended up with Prowl." His expression changed, looking almost sheepish. "I… do feel a little guilty about it, but he should be able to handle himself. You know, probably."

I wasn't so sure, but I nodded slowly anyway.

"Similarly, with Blackout we wanted someone who wouldn't lose his temper with him at the drop of a screw," said Leader-1. "Under the circumstances, we decided that that person was you."

"Ha!" I scoffed, though it was becoming more and more apparent that this wasn't a joke. "Leader-1, I lose my temper at Blackout all the time! Like every day!" I shouted, trying to make him see the obvious. "You're making a mistake! I can't control myself! I'm not much better than Inferno! I'm going to lose it, Blackout's going to get sent back to Longarm, and everyone will know and hate me for it!"

"You stood up for him," he said quietly.

"That was just because-!" I started, but I couldn't finish. I couldn't find a reason why I had done this. Not one that would prove my point, anyway. "Look!" I started over, sounding desperate, "You and Blackout both seem to be under the impression that I'm some kind of great guy when I'm not! I'm a crook! I'm a thief! I've stolen things! I've… I've probably hurt people! Why do you think I'm still here!?"

Leader-1 was silent for a moment. Then he said, in the quietest, most defeated voice I had ever heard him use, "Why do you think I am?"

I was startled. The expression on Leader-1's face was one of absolute misery. His words from earlier flashed through my head. _"I… I would know this better than anyone."_ "But," I started weakly, "but you said…"

"I know what I said," he muttered simply.

I was too overwhelmed to say anything. Maybe that's for the best; there was nothing to say. So all that talk of "being more useful here" and "not feeling well" really were complete lies, after all. Well, if that was true, then what was the real reason Leader-1 was here? Had he gotten into some kind of trouble? What had he done?

Leader-1 scrutinized me for a second, then took a quick side-to-side double take, as if to make sure no one was watching. He gestured towards me in a conspiratorial way. After a second's hesitation, I leaned in towards him. "Will you please just trust me?" he asked, in a low voice, "And will you trust my judgment?"

I was silent. He went on. "Look, I… we wouldn't put you in this position if we thought you weren't capable. And if you do 'lose it' or whatever, it's fine. I'll accept full responsibility for whatever happens. This was mostly my idea, anyway. I'll be the one to blame. I'll even lie and say you weren't even with him at the time, if you want. Everything will be my fault. Just a bit of advice though, before you go: Try to be patient with him. Besides his other… ah… issues, Blackout is…" He paused there and took the same side-to-side glance. He dropped his voice a few more decibels, forcing me to strain to hear. "…Well, he's a little bit like me. He can't build anything to save his life," he muttered.

I still didn't say anything. I was still thinking of the lies he had been spoon-feeding us, and the reason that must've been behind them.

"And Grid?" Leader-1 asked, getting my attention back. His tone and face told me he was going to say something pretty serious. I waited. "No matter what you might think," he said, "No matter what might have happened out there or what might happen in here. No matter what it seems like the world is trying to tell you. Always remember this: You are the only thing that can really defeat you. You are your own harshest judge. Right now, there is a voice is your head that is telling you, 'You can't,' and that voice is yours and only yours. Do you understand?"

I stared. Leader-1 was the last person I expected this from. His words sounded pretty, sure, and encouraging, but to be honest, I didn't really think much of them. Everything he was saying seemed like the usual dumbly optimistic drivel that people threw at you hastily to get you to stop crying. It was just like Sparkplug's earlier speech: meaningless.

Though I was thinking all this, I wasn't stupid enough to express my doubts out loud. I just nodded slowly, like I understood perfectly.

At my apparent agreement, Leader-1 straightened, as if this talk hadn't even taken place. "Good," he said, clearly satisfied. He wasn't whispering anymore; his voice rang across the hall, quite magnified. "Well, you've lost a lot of time. I suggest that you and Blackout start working immediately." With that, he turned and walked briskly away, leaving me standing there, totally confused.

My head was churning with everything that had just happened. I tried to replay it all in my head. Leader-1 was hiding something; that was completely obvious. But what exactly? Now that wasn't so obvious. It had something to do with the reason he was still here when he so clearly wasn't supposed to be. What was that reason? I had a pretty good feeling he wouldn't tell me. I also had a pretty good feeling that I was being a snoop, and that it really didn't concern me one way or another. But I couldn't get Leader-1's furious and anguished look out of my mind. _Let's see…_ I thought to myself, _It might relate to that Minicon Village. He was the leader there. What was its number again? Oh, yeah. D10. That's probably it; it seems like a sore spot for him. Sore enough for Inferno to taunt him about it. What could've happened there? Inferno said it was attacked by Decepticons…_

I was so absorbed in all this that I didn't receive any sign that someone was coming up behind me… that is, until I detected a voice right beside my right audio receptor saying, "What was all that about?" in an unnecessarily loud voice.

I jumped. Blackout was standing right next to me, holding a bundle of construction supplies. His head was cocked to one side, and his question was loaded with the innocent curiosity of a toddler. Or… not so innocent.

I scowled again, but I had been too lost in thought to get really mad at him. When you're deep inside your own head, and someone tries to pull you out like that, you only come out halfway, it seems.

When the anger failed to show up, concern and worry took its place. Oh, frag, how long had Blackout been standing there? How much had he heard? What Leader-1 had said to me definitely didn't strike me as something I wanted to share with Blackout. I paused for a second or two, then said, "Oh, that? It's nothing. Just… boring stuff." Okay, not brilliant. But what the pit was I supposed to say? "_Sorry, but I can't tell you"_? Get real.

Blackout wasn't fooled. "It didn't seem like boring stuff," he accused. His optic swiveled over to me. "When people mutter like that, it's never boring. People might announce something interesting, but they never whisper about something that isn't." He continued to gaze shrewdly at me. "You weren't talking about me, were you?"

I felt relieved. So Blackout hadn't heard anything. Good. "Yeah," I sighed, "You got us. We were."

Blackout laughed. "Knew it," he said proudly. He did that thing where he nods rapidly in agreement with himself. "Talking about what an crack shot I am, were you?" he asked, a grin in his voice.

The look I gave him was my attempt to turn the sentence, _You're crazy,_ into a facial expression. I think it worked, seeing as Blackout totally ignored me, and that's what he usually does when I tell him he's an idiot.

He shrugged. "Well, whatever." Then he brightened. His mood swings were difficult to keep up with sometimes. "Come on, let's get started," he said. As he spoke, the pile of supplies he was carrying clattered to the floor. I stepped back to avoid bouncing debris, looking down on him with horror.

If Blackout knew he just did something wrong, he didn't show it. "I think they're almost done welding," he announced, totally oblivious to my expression. He bent down and picked something up out of the pile. "I got torches," he chirped proudly, holding one up.

I glanced up at the torch in his hand. "…Blackout," I told him, "You're holding that upside down."

* * *

Now… that? That sentence up there? That one sentence pretty much holds the essence of what the entire workday was like.

You might be saying, _Oh, get over yourself. What could he have done that was so terrible? _A better, more thought provoking question would be, what _didn't_ he do? Dropping things, aiming the torch the wrong way, knocking me over with various blunt objects; I think we actually did more damage to the ship than made progress finishing it. It certainly wasn't helping, nor was it redeeming Blackout's image in my eyes, that he always tried to fix his mistakes afterwards, with disastrous results. The single good thing I could say about working with Blackout is that he never blamed any of his screw-ups on me. He always knew that whatever had gone wrong that time had been his fault, and he always seemed honestly repentant about everything he did. If I had taken a drink every time he chirped, "Oops, my bad," I would've been unconscious by the end of the day.

It eventually got to the point where I gave up and started to go door-to-door, asking other people if I could maybe work with them. Only problem is, Blackout would always follow eagerly behind wherever I went, and this did not help sell my service at all. The general reaction with every pair we talked to was pretty much the same. The two workers would look at me, then at Blackout, then at back at me, then back at Blackout, then at each other, then back at me, then shake their heads no. Every pair always looked slightly frightened and never moved at all before shaking their heads. They just did this uncertain side-to-side thing with their eyes. It was all very creepy, to be perfectly honest. In the end, we didn't have any takers (We skipped Prowl and Inferno, for obvious reasons.), so decided to pack up our supplies and turn in early. Mysteriously, Leader-1 was completely absent, so there was no one to prevent us from just leaving, and we snuck out without encountering any problems at all.

The other good thing about today was that I actually managed to not kill Blackout. I'm serious; I didn't hit him once! (I did snap at him a couple times, but that's to be expected.) I was very proud of myself. See, I came up with a tactic to vent my frustration in less destructive ways. It was inspired by one of the nightmares I'd had two nights ago. Every time I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, I lit a torch and held it right under my right hand. Not so that the flame was touching me, not so close that I burnt my hand or melted my armor, just close enough for me to feel the extreme heat. This way, I was able to vent my angst and remind myself, forcefully, that Blackout looked up to me, but more importantly, that Leader-1 felt I could control myself. It was Leader-1 that I was really struggling for. His defeated expression was the main reason I tried so hard to suck it in and try to bear it.

After everyone else had stopped working, we all filed into the auditorium once again in order to hear whatever announcements the officers had in store for us this time. Today's commentator was none other than Sparkplug, who announced, in a somewhat unnerved voice that was trying its hardest to remain steady, that one of the supply rooms, the one with the oil dispensing machine, had been trashed, and no one had been able to find out who did it. Obviously, that made us all kind of nervous, not to mention angry. It had taken time and guts to gather those supplies, and now some punk was trying to ruin it for us. Fortunately, Sparkplug assured us that nothing essential had been damaged, and that the things that had been were not beyond all hope of repair, with the exception of a few barrels of oil. (Many sighs of relief.) On that note, the room was still being cleaned up, and those unfortunate enough to have not received their ration today would just have to wait until tomorrow. (Much groaning, particularly from me. I had been busy with Blackout all day and hadn't had the time or energy to get my ration.) After that, Sparkplug wished us a quick good luck, and we all filed to our sleeping quarters, our postures already starting to show the indifference of routine.

I noticed that Sparkplug didn't make any mention of Leader-1 skipping out on the raid. Then again, it was sort of a delicate topic to bring up, especially in front of a crowd.

The next day, we once again lined up outside the hangar, waiting for our partner assignments. As I drove to the room, I had the distinct feeling that there was a huge unspoken question mark hovering above everyone's heads, and I knew why, because we were all wondering the same thing: Would Leader-1 still be there today? Reason said yes; the raid always lasted two days, so he couldn't really join it halfway through. Nevertheless, there was a definite hush of surprise and interest when, once again, Leader-1 was standing in front of us, brandishing his list and looking at us with his usual critical gaze. Remembering the scene that had unfolded yesterday, nobody dared to say a word while Leader-1 spoke. No doubt, they were imagining huge holes being drilled through their middles. This arrangement seemed just fine for Leader-1, who read everyone's name with a sort of do-any-more-of-you-have-a-clever-comment kind of tone. It was pretty obvious that he didn't want any slag from anyone today. He didn't comment on anything, though, which was probably the wiser thing to do. The only allusion he made to yesterday's events was that he practically spat Inferno's name, as if it was a really vulgar swear word.

Mercifully, he threw me a small bit of relief for my pain and suffering. Instead of pairing me alone with Blackout like he did yesterday, Leader-1 made my life much easier by putting us in a group of three with a Minicon by the name of Ironhide. To my surprise, I wasn't the one who was happiest with this arrangement. Blackout was actually the most thrilled, as Ironhide turned out to be a very tough-looking, but attractive, femme.

So that's where I was now, helping Ironhide weld a particularly large piece of sheet metal onto the huge frame, while Blackout sat on the floor and chattered incessantly to the both of us. Him not doing anything seemed to annoy Ironhide, but I, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with it. You might have noticed earlier, but Blackout can be pretty destructive when he's trying to "help." This setup was definitely preferable.

Anyway, Blackout had been in the middle of ranting about some… person or another that, from what I could tell, had received a very brutal chewing out by Grindor to go back to his Decepticon partner and give him the slip, as he had instructed, before he finally gave in, when he suddenly piped up, "Hey Ironhide, could you go get me a barrel of oil?"

I swept my head over my shoulder and gave him a look. "Blackout, you're not supposed to ask a girl to go get stuff for you!" I scolded.

Unfortunately, this didn't sit well with Ironhide. "Why the slag not!?" she snapped. Then she kicked me in the shin. Hard. I gasped and fell over, clutching my leg. I landed pretty close to Blackout, and maybe I imagined it, but I could've sworn I heard him whisper, "Man, that's hot."

Ironhide closed her eyes for a minute, as if trying to calm herself. Then, totally ignoring me, she turned to Blackout. "Sorry, but Grid's technically right. I'm not allowed to get barrels of oil for you. You have to get it yourself. Grindor's orders," she explained haughtily. She had one of those don't-mess-with-me voices that automatically makes you wince when you hear it. It suited her.

I was indignant. "If I'm so right," I snapped at her, "then what the pit did you kick me for?" She ignored this.

"Oh, come on. Please?" pleaded Blackout, imitating a child's voice. "Look, if anyone catches you, I'll just tell them it was my idea, okay?"

"Sorry, but the answer's still no," Ironhide said coldly. "Why don't you just get it yourself? Seeing as you haven't done anything else, today." This last sentence had a significant amount of bitterness sprinkled over it.

"I keep telling you," I muttered, still lying on the floor, "It's better this way. You definitely don't want Blackout working on this thing." I was thinking it was about time for Ironhide to acknowledge my existence, for a change. Unfortunately, she didn't spare me a passing glance.

Neither did Blackout. For once, his attention was totally fixed on someone else. Someone who wasn't me. "Well, yeah," he admitted in response to her question. "But it's _so_ far away, and I'm _so_ lazy."

Ironhide's blue optics seared. "Are you making fun of me?" she demanded.

"Yes," said Blackout honestly. "But don't take it personally, Ironhide. I make fun of everybody!"

"Doesn't my lying on the floor in pain, I don't know, bother anyone?" I finally snapped out of frustration.

They both finally, finally, glanced down at me. Blackout looked surprised then amused. Ironhide just snorted. "Oh, don't be such a drama queen," she said, arms folded. "I didn't kick you that hard. It didn't even leave a mark."

Taken aback slightly, I looked down. Sure enough, there was no mark. Not only that, but my leg had stopped throbbing, long ago. I sat up, feeling pretty stupid. "Well…" I started sheepishly. "…It still hurt."

Now they both looked amused. Ironhide actually cracked a smile. Blackout laughed. "Gosh, Gridsy," he mock-scolded, "Don't be such a whiner."

That got both Ironhide and I going. "You were whining just now!" we both snapped at different times.

"Yeah, but I'm thirsty," protested Blackout, like this was a perfect excuse. He pretended to cringe in fear, but I saw a familiar impish gleam in his optic.

"Oh, for Primus' sake!" I snapped before Ironhide got a chance. "Look, if you're that really that thirsty, then _I'll_ go get your ration for you!" I stood up and walked over to Blackout, cursing mentally.

"You're a lifesaver, Gridsy," sighed Blackout, holding out his ration card.

I took his card and stowed it in my chest compartment in a defeated kind of way, like a soldier heading for his execution. "Yeah, well," I grumbled, "I need a break, anyway. Anything to get away from you two."

I was about to drive off when I noticed the expression in Ironhide's eyes. She seemed oddly concerned. Suspicious. "Uh," she started, looking at Blackout. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

I stopped and stared at her, stung by this. For a little while there, I had foolishly thought that we had gotten past these… these suspicions and accusations. With the single exception of Inferno, I thought that maybe everyone had gotten used to the idea that I had once been a thief and were starting to trust me. That single sentence from Ironhide had been a real eye-opener for me. An eye-opener to something ugly. I don't think she realized just how much that one sentence had wounded me. I just kept staring, lost and hurt.

It was Blackout who came to my rescue. "Pshaw," he scoffed, making the same sound he had used on me two nights ago. "Don't be so paranoid. I trust Gridsy, and Leader-1 seems to trust him, too. That's enough for me."

I looked away from Ironhide, moved. There was a feeling forming in my spark. It was vaguely warm… and embarrassing. "Thanks," I muttered, meeting no one's eyes, unsure of what to say.

I heard a _thunk_ that indicated Blackout had flopped over in a recline on the floor. "Besides," he said, "if Gridsy tries anything funny, I'll know who's got my card." He said that last part quiet cheerfully and sounding very pleased with himself.

The warm bubble in me popped with such force it was more like an explosion. "I'm going now!" I snapped, stomping away. As a last minute precaution, I turned back to Ironhide, who had stopped looking at me and was now glaring at Blackout. I indicated to her that I wanted to say something. She looked up expectantly. When I was sure I had her complete attention, I whispered in the confidential tone I picked up from Leader-1: "Try not to hit him."

Ironhide rolled her eyes and looked back at Blackout, contentedly laying on the floor, his hands folded behind his head. Her expression was something close to disgust. She leaned her head towards me and whispered back, "No promises."

I figured that was the most I could hope for from Ironhide, so I transformed and drove away, dodging people's legs as I went. I tried to hurry. After all, the sooner I got back, the shorter the opportunity Ironhide had to completely lose it on Blackout. Not that that takes long.

Before I go on, let me say a few words about the layout of the place. Currently, if you remember, we were in the left hall of the main complex. The hangar containing the still unnamed ship was behind a door that led into a plain white room that could be accessed by going through another door around halfway down the hall on the right side. (Have I lost you yet?) That hangar was my starting point. Further up the hall, closer to where it opened to the auditorium, was another door, which was unlabeled. This door was always locked, and no one knew for sure what was behind it. It was reported that, late at night, voices could be heard coming through it, but these voices were always muffled and unrecognizable. During my stay here, several theories would arise about the nature of this room, most of them concerning ghosts, but no one would ever figure it out for sure.

In the opposite direction, leading away from the entrance, there were several more doors. There was one very prominent one at the very end of the hall; that was the main storage room, where we would go to get our rations. On the left wall, between this door and the door to the hangar, there were two rooms. The one closest to the corner was an extra storage room. The one farther down was a sort of lounge. At least, that's what I think it was. Nobody ever went in there except for the officers, but they usually left the door open. Surely anyone could use it or at least go up and stand beside it. I mean, if it was really terribly private, then surely they would've put a up a lock or at least shut the fragging door.

So, now that you know where I was going and where everything was placed, hopefully you'll understand that I didn't walk down there _intending_ to eavesdrop. My curiosity just got the better of me. You understand, don't you? _Don't you?_

Okay, so you don't. But, you're curious. Just like I was. So, I'll tell you what I overheard.

After I'd put as much distance possible between me and what I knew to be a possible crime scene, I slowed down and drove casually into the main storage room. The door was an automatic one, and it slid out of and back into place when I walked through.

I could see what Sparkplug had said last night was true. The storage room really had been trashed. Several of the building supplies for the ship were thrown around the room randomly. Some of the larger barrels of oil were missing from their usual stacks; they had been crushed and punctured and were now laying in shattered fragments on the floor, instead. The oil had all been mopped up, but the room still reeked of the stuff. There was a trail of black ash on the floor, implying that someone spilled the barrels and then lit fire to the contents.

Most distressing of all was the state of the ration-dispenser-thing. Giant, warped holes ruptured the surface of the normally undamaged machine, creating a violent and almost disturbing effect. It looked as though someone had actually tried to claw it apart with their bare servos.

I stared at the machine and he wreckage, shocked. Whatever Sparkplug had said, the damage didn't look minimal to me. It looked as though somebody had serious issues. I tried to fathom who might've done this. My mind immediately jumped to Inferno, thinking that only someone with his _lovely disposition _would've even considered this. Then I realized, almost disappointed, that he had no motive. And even if he did, surely Prowl would've said something if Inferno had snuck away? Unless Inferno threatened him, but Prowl hadn't really struck me as much of a coward.

With my primary suspect gone, I was completely lost. Just as I was trying to come up with another face, I spotted something on the far wall. It was another burn mark, but the shape of it was odd. As if in a trance, I walked over to the mark and placed my hand over it. I traced my finger down its surface, leaving a white, chalky mark in the black. That mark… it was no random scar from a wildly spilled fire. It was in a sort of ring, with splayed out lines coming off of it like rays. It looked strange, almost like… like a flower of ash…

I shook myself out of it and walked back toward the machine. I didn't want to take too long getting the oil. Ironhide was already suspicious. Difficult as she was being, I definitely didn't need any reason for her to think I was up to something.

I inserted my ration card into the dispenser and watched as it spit it back out along with a small barrel of oil. Despite the machine's external damage, it seemed to be working fine. After that was done, I took a hasty double take to make sure no one was watching (what I was doing was against the rules, after all) and inserted Blackout's card, too. It did the same thing. I put both cards and both barrels into my chest compartment and started quickly for the door. With both barrels of oil inside me, I was way too bloated to transform without crushing the contents. I really doubt you've ever had this happen to you, so let me spare you the gross details by saying that having containers of liquid breaking inside you and having said liquid gush out of the cracks and crevices in your body is not a pleasant experience. Trust me. So, I had to slowly walk out of the room and back to the hangar.

Let me once again point out that what is about to take place is not my fault. If I had been able to transform, I probably would've zoomed by without catching any of their voices. Or if they had had the sense to _shut the slagging door,_ I wouldn't have been able to listen in on their conversation. But neither of these things happened, so the thing that I probably shouldn't have overheard?... Well, you get the idea by now.

I was walking by, wondering if Blackout was still alive, when I heard this coming from my right:

"Leader-1, I think you know why we've called you down here."

And, after a moment's pause, this response: "I suppose I do. But, for clarity's sake, pretend I don't. Why am I here, Sureshock?"

I stopped, staring wide-eyed in the direction of the sound. It was coming form the always-open door, which, at this second, happened to be right in front of me. I knew I should've kept walking. I knew this was none of my business.

But I was curious.

So very curious.

I inched closer to the door, flattening myself against the wall. My, er, _unusual_ training helped my footsteps stay completely silent, quite a feat for our kind. The whole time I was moving, there was this voice screaming at me in the back of my head, saying things like, _What the slag do you think you're doing!? Go back, you idiot! Go back! _I ignored it. I had a pretty good idea what was about to be discussed in there, and I also knew that I'd never again get a decent night's sleep if I passed up this opportunity.

The second voice that I'd heard coming from the lounge was definitely Leader-1's, there was no mistaking it. The first voice was unfamiliar, but I knew it had to be Sureshock, High Wire's other lackey. I continued forward until I was right next to the open door. Praying to anyone who would listen that no one would walk down the hall and see me here, I turned my head to peek into the room.

And this is what happened:

**Author's Notes: **

Right after this word from our sponsor!

Sorry this took so long you guys. I thought summer would mean lots of free time, but it turns out I was sadly mistaken. My parents seem to be on away-from-home overdrive this year. Not even a week after school ended, we set sail on a cruise through Alaska. If I said I didn't have a blast, then I'd be a ridiculously shameless liar. It was a lot of fun, but I only got to work on this fanfic once, while the rest of my family took a well earned, very comfortable-looking nap.

Around five days after we returned, I had to leave home _again._ This time I was going to a summer school type program at a college (I won't say where). It has all the fun of college, meaning dorms, no parents, two subjects a day, but with a few drawbacks. A curfew, not being allowed to leave campus, and enforced study hours are just some of these. The food, being dorm food, is absolutely terrible. Thank goodness for the box of snacks my mom sent me and the on-campus Chik-fil-a, or I'd starve.

Anyway, I'm using my free time to work on this thing. (Actually, by the time you read this, I'll probably be home again.) I hope you guys like this chapter, even though nothing especially exciting happens. (Again?) When I was thinking up this story in my head, I always imagined Grid to confront Inferno in the storage room, but that somehow ended up not happening. It just seemed random and unnecessary to me. Sorry, Inferno fans. (Does Inferno have fans? Or does everyone hate him?... Or does nobody care? I hope it's not that last one. That would make me sad.)

Oh, and before I forget, Armada Ironhide really is a girl. Seriously. Granted, this is in no way the same character as Energon Ironhide, whom I hate. They just happen to have the same name is all.

More stuff happens in the next chapter. Wait eagerly in anticipation! Later!


	12. Prisoner

**Prisoner**

I immediately whipped my head back to the wall, pressing my back firmly against the hard surface while my spark pulsated madly. Not only were Sureshock and Leader-1 in there, but there was also a third bot, sitting next to Sureshock. From the brief flash of blinding yellow I had gotten, it had to have been Sparkplug. No other Minicon I'd ever seen had that coloration. The reason I'd had only a split second's peak was that Sureshock had been half-facing the direction of the door, and if I had stayed a second longer, no doubt I would've been spotted. I mean, in theory. When you're sneaking around, you always imagine that you're about to be caught. This kind of paranoia can be distressing, but it also keeps you from making stupid mistakes.

It was only later, out of danger and out of earshot, that I realized Fate had just offered me the perfect opportunity to walk away. Now that I had nearly been caught, I had an excuse to leave that wouldn't damage my pride. And, honestly, part of me did want to leave. I'd spent the entire walk over here justifying what I was planning to do, but that didn't get rid of the nagging feeling that this was really wrong. Leader-1 trusted me, and this was how I was going to repay him? _Crook,_ that same hidden voice hissed, _Crook. You're a crook, Grid._

In spite of all that, I didn't remove my back from the wall. I stayed there for a few seconds, locked in internal conflict. Every so often I would think, _Forget it. I can't do this. I'm just gonna walk away, _but of course I never moved. And I knew myself well enough to know why. Despite my guilt, the trust that had been placed in me, or some third thing, the simple fact remained: Leader-1 had a secret. A secret he wouldn't tell me, not in a million years. And I had to know what it was. I began to inch back to toward the door, my mind at least shakily set. Well, I had warned Leader-1 about this, hadn't I?

Slowly this time, I leaned into the doorway, being careful to make sure that nothing besides my eyes were visible. To my relief, Sureshock's attention had been turned away from the door, his eyes focused on a spot across from him instead. Next to him, sitting on a wide metal bench, was Sparkplug, his face unusually hard and suspicious, his eyes locked on the same figure.

Leader-1 happened to be the one everyone was staring at. He was sitting in another metal bench that ran parallel to the first. His eyes were cold and distant. It was apparent that Sparkplug and Leader-1 didn't think very highly of each other. Out of these three, Sureshock was the only one whose face showed no anger or hatred. He looked on, almost passively, over the two Minicons seated around him.

I stood there, bending over ridiculously with my spark spazzing out of control. I was pretty sure they could all hear it. If any one of them looked up at any point while I was here, my excursion would end pretty quick. For a second, I found myself wishing that I could turn invisible… Then Inferno's face appeared in my mind and I shoved the idea out of my mind violently. No way would I ever consider that again. No way.

While I had been busy giving myself a spark attack, they had resumed speaking. Sparkplug was looking at Leader-1 through narrowed eyes. When he spoke, he was responding to Leader-1's earlier statement. "You said yourself that you already knew why you were here. Why should Sureshock have to tell you anything?" he said coldly. No, you read that right. _Coldly._ I didn't know that Sparkplug was even capable of being so hateful. He was just too… too docile. This was getting really weird.

Sureshock looked down at him quietly. As far as I could tell, there was no real emotion in his eyes, but something in his gaze seemed to overpower Sparkplug. He cast his eyes down to the floor, looking ashamed. Sureshock then turned his attention back to Leader-1. "Now, Sparkplug, Leader-1's not on trial. He is free to ask anything he wishes," he murmured. The words were all spoken in the third person, and they were all addressed to Sparkplug, but Sureshock didn't take his eyes from Leader-1 the whole time he was speaking. This tactic gave him a strange, almost otherworldly air.

Throughout all this, Leader-1 hadn't moved once. He sat very rigidly on the bench, his fists clenched. I thought I knew how he must've felt. Like these people weren't giving him any respect. Like he was being cross-examined.

Like this really was a trial.

Still gazing at Leader-1, Sureshock continued. "To answer your question, Leader-1, you're here to account for your recent actions. Recently you have been acting in direct violation of your orders," he said. He had kind of a quiet, monotone sounding voice. I'm almost tempted to say that it was a misty kind of voice, but it wasn't really. There was a sort of seriousness to it that eliminated that description. That didn't change the fact that it was extraordinarily creepy.

The second Sureshock stopped talking, Sparkplug seized the opportunity. "Why did you not report in to lead the Raiding Team yesterday?" he demanded. "Because of you, we had to send High Wire in your place!"

"On the contrary, you didn't have to do anything," said Leader-1. He was using that cool, distant tone he had whenever he didn't feel the argument was worth his time. "You could have sent anyone to lead the Raiding Team. Yourself, for example."

Sparkplug's mouth opened in speechless frustration. I silently cheered. I guess it doesn't take a huge leap of logic to figure out why I was rooting for Leader-1. I kind of saw him as a kindred spirit… or something. We were both constantly getting pestered by other people for our mistakes. Yeah, I was pretty sure I knew exactly how Leader-1 felt.

Finally, Sparkplug managed to splutter, "Y-you're the last person I should be hearing that from! You, the one who is afraid to even go outside, dare to question my courage!?"

"Are you calling me a coward!" Leader-1 snapped. He didn't move from where he was, but I saw a flash of anger in his yellow optics.

Sparkplug looked like he wanted very much to say, _Well, yes actually, I am!_ but Sureshock held up a hand to stop him. "That's enough," he said calmly. He was facing Sparkplug's general direction, but he still hadn't moved his eyes from Leader-1. I stood there silently, impatiently waiting for them to get on with it already.

Sureshock turned back to Leader-1 and said, "As excitable as Sparkplug may be, Leader-1, he does have a point. We gave you an order, a mission that needed be carried out. You were instructed, no, requested to lead a troop of Minicons into a Decepticon infested area. This mission was dangerous, yes, but crucial. We assumed that you, with your skills, would be able to successfully lead these people in and out of danger."

"I guess no one ever told you the dangers of making assumptions," Leader-1 muttered darkly.

"That may also be," said Sureshock patiently, "but you never gave us any reason to doubt your competence."

"My competence," Leader-1 echoed. A ghost of his earlier anguish passed over him.

Sureshock correctly interpreted this statement as one that was supposed to be ignored and just kept going. "However," he said, "instead of asking for a different assignment, instead of politely declining, instead of merely showing up that morning and saying no, that you'd prefer to do something else, you simply refuse to even show up and instead go straight to the hangar to receive the Construction Team without even telling anyone what you were up to." At this point, most people would've thrown some sort of insult at Leader-1, but Sureshock seemed to realize that this would be enough. It seemed to work. Leader-1 visibly cringed at the end and looked up at Sureshock with that same dark look. Sparkplug, meanwhile, stared at Leader-1, anger written all over his open face.

"We, or," he went on, glancing at Sparkplug's burning face, "as I should probably say, _I_ am not here to convict you. I simply wish to understand. Why wouldn't you lead them, Leader-1? Why were you not there when your people needed you?"

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to yell out. _No way,_ I thought furiously, _No way did he just say that. No way would he say the same thing _he _did. No way._

But he had, and Leader-1 reacted the exact same way he did yesterday, when it was Inferno whispering those same words. He looked up at Sureshock with the expression of a kicked dog gazing up at its master. For a long few minutes, he seemed completely lost for words. At last, he bowed his head and muttered, "Sparkplug said earlier that I was a coward. Well, he was right."

I saw Sparkplug look away, smirking darkly. Sureshock, on the other hand, had something like pity on his face. "Leader-1…" he said gently.

"Don't give me that," Leader-1 snarled. "I shouldn't have shouted at Sparkplug, because he was right. I am afraid. Everything he said about me was right."

Okay. This was starting to get creepily familiar.

There was another frustratingly long pause before Sureshock spoke. "I think I understand," he murmured. "You believe that He may find you again?"

Leader-1 put his hand over his optics, as if to hide his face from the world. "You know the answer to that," he murmured.

I felt something like a jolt. Now! Now we were getting somewhere! If possible, I tuned in even more, ensuring that I didn't miss a word.

While I was getting excited over a mystery about to be solved, Sureshock continued to look down on Leader-1 mournfully. Sparkplug, however, was less sympathetic. "That is no excuse to skip out on work!" he snapped angrily. I hoped silently that Leader-1 would blast him. "There are many officers here, including myself, who have been captured, and they do not allow that to get in the way of our-"

"I honestly doubt you were very mistreated, Sparkplug," Leader-1 cut in, peering out from under his hand with loathing. "Unlike my master, Optimus is not exactly famous for his cruelty."

It took half a minute for this to register in my mind, but once it did, I had to grip the wall with all my strength to keep myself from reacting with shock. Optimus? As in Optimus Prime? _The _Optimus Prime!? _Holy slag!_ I dearly would've loved to be anywhere else in the complex so that I could flip out without fear at this incredible truth: Sparkplug was the Minicon partner of Optimus Prime.

Every Minicon, no, every Transformer knew the name of Optimus Prime. He was the leader of the Autobots and had gained quite a reputation throughout all of Cybertron. The Autobots knew him as their leader, but he was more than that to them really. He was their mentor, their friend, their infallible encouragement, their constant motivation. He was known for his wisdom, his kindness, and his basic saintliness. You can laugh if you want, but that's what they thought of him.

Among the Decepticons, however, he was known as the guy who _won't fragging die!_ Countless times had Optimus gone into battle against them, and he always came out pretty much unscathed, save for a scratch or dent here and there. And this wasn't because he was a coward who spent the whole fight hiding. Quite the opposite. Whenever a brawl broke out, Optimus would always be front and center, doing everything in his power to keep his enemies back. Despite his apparently soft exterior, Prime could really "bring it" when he needed to. The Autobots had complete justified faith in their leader, because whenever he led the attack, the Decepticons were in for a beating. Even in the cases where he was defeated, he still managed to pick himself up and be back for more next time. Many Decepticons had tried to kill him off for good, and they had all failed. Heck, it would be a feat for one of those guys to nick him. Only one Decepticon had ever managed to seriously damage Prime, and that was Megatron himself, who, I should mention, hated him with a burning passion.

Despite all this, all the hurt he could inflict, he still managed to retain his reputation as a pacifist. Here's why: While Optimus could fight, and often did, he absolutely hated it and only did so out of need. He was always on the defensive, never the offensive. Out of all the Decepticons he had fought and defeated, not one had ever died at his hands. Not one. Yeah, there wasn't another Autobot like Optimus Prime. Never had been and probably never will be.

Basically, among both factions, Optimus Prime was the Indestructible. The number one soldier… or enemy. However, the Minicons, us, saw him in a different light.

For a long time now, the Minicons had heard what a great leader he was, and how just, and had come to regard Optimus Prime with a kind of foolish hope. A rumor had started to go around that maybe, just maybe, we had found a bulk who would sympathize with our plight at last. Maybe we had finally found someone who didn't see us as weapons or slaves, but as people. People who had their own rights and desires. However, some skeptics (like me, for instance) scoffed at this idea, labeling it as the sort of fluff story that always springs out of hardship and denial. Nothing more.

At least, I had used to think that way. But now, finding out that Optimus had had a Minicon, one who thought of him fondly and with a smile, I began to consider that maybe there was some inkling of truth to it after all. Began to consider. I wasn't a hardcore follower just yet.

I had been so caught up in freaking out over Sparkplug's secret that I missed the cryptic meaning in the rest of Leader-1's words. "…not exactly famous for his cruelty… _Unlike my master…"_

Sparkplug, however, seemed to pick up perfectly on what Leader-1 said, because, once again, he had no retort. He frowned at Leader-1, sure, but he did so silently. I hoped that he would stay that way, for once.

Sureshock was still. I got the impression he was thinking hard about something. Finally, he said, "You know that he is nowhere near here, Leader-1. Even if he was, he would have no reason to think that here is where you are. You would be in no more danger than anyone else if you-"

"You don't know what it's like!" cried Leader-1 suddenly. He jumped to his feet, something none of Sparkplug's earlier snides or Sureshock's frustrating pity could do. His engine was revving again, his anguish no longer a ghost. I could tell he was trying to calm down, but it was like a reservoir had broken. There was nothing to hold him back. "You don't know what it's like," he repeated to a shocked Sparkplug and Sureshock, "to live in that terror everyday. To wake up and not know if… if you would still… would still…"

At this point, he was overcome and stopped, breathless. I glanced at Sparkplug quickly, to see if he was getting the same sadistic pleasure from this outburst as before. He wasn't. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked almost sympathetic. Guilty.

Leader-1 stayed standing where he was, trembling. I'd never seen him tremble before. It made me feel uncomfortable. Something seemed to have died in him just now, because his engine had become silent. He stood and bowed his head, his optics dimmed. When he spoke, his tone was much quieter. Defeated. "I think I'm losing myself," he murmured. "I get these moments where… all this anger… all this hate… it all just builds up in me. And I can't stop it. I can't control it. It's like there's something… some beast inside me, inside my spark, that I can't contain, and I lash out…"

He paused and looked away, hiding his face. I wished I hadn't come here. I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to see the pain in his eyes. I wanted to be back in the hangar, yelling at Blackout and Ironhide. But now I knew his pain, and I could never forget it. _"Once you know someone, really know someone, there is no turning back…"_

Though I ached to leave, I didn't move. Something, some invisible force, was rooting me to the spot. I listened on. "Just yesterday, I… I attacked Inferno," Leader-1 murmured, speaking as though the words had been wrenched from him by force. "I might have killed him! If I hadn't managed to pull myself out of it… if all those people hadn't been there… if we had been alone, I would've killed him. I know I would have. I've… I've become something terrible."

Yesterday, when that had happened, I had felt shocked, sure, but also slightly pleased. I didn't used to think it would be so terrible if Inferno had a little… you know… accident. Now I saw what a horrific thing it would've been, how haunting. How close it had come to becoming reality…

Leader-1 had paused again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, pausing and gasping. There were no words for what he was feeling. His voice sounded weak and fragile, as if it was about to break. Suddenly, his expression darkened, and he looked straight ahead, right into Sureshock's waiting eyes. He became hostile. "I know it's because of Him," he hissed. "He did this to me. Made me into this… this monster. You don't know… you could never fathom… all the suffering I've had to endure… The humiliation… All because of _Him."_ His voice trailed away once more. I shrank back, further into the doorframe, uneasy. There was something dangerous about Leader-1, now. No, not _about_ him. _Inside _him. His spark was full of hate and agonizing memories. Memories of this mysterious "master." Despite my unease, I still managed to find time to wonder: Who was He?

Leader-1's hostile eyes left Sureshock and flicked over to Sparkplug. His stare bored into him. Sparkplug looked back without flinching, but I saw him squirm in his seat a little. For the second time ever, I was sympathizing with Sparkplug. There was no way those hate-filled eyes were easy to endure. How much darkness was in that stare?

"Are you satisfied now?" Leader-1 snarled, glaring at Sparkplug. "Now that you know my pain? Now that you've made me confess everything you already know? Are you finally satisfied? Do you enjoy my suffering, is that it? Do you want to look down on me? It must be a great _pleasure,_ seeing me like this? Isn't that right, old friend?" Throughout this whole paragraph, he didn't shout. Not once. He didn't need to. The low, dangerous tone was enough. Sparkplug looked away from Leader-1 to his favorite spot on the floor, shaken.

Once Leader-1 had the reaction he'd wanted out of Sparkplug, he glanced back behind him again. The anger had burned out of him. "I can't go back out there," he murmured, shaking again. "I can't. Every time… I even think of it…" That did it. His voice broke, and the words were lost. It took him a while to regain himself after that.

"He's looking for me," he said, after a moment. "I know he is. Neither of you know the way he thinks; I do! He'll come looking for me. It's only a matter of time. He knows I escaped. He _saw_ me. He tried to _stop_ me. I barely got away. He won't dare mention it to anyone else, that his Minicon is missing, that he's been weakened, but he isn't about to forget. He won't rest until I'm his again. And if he finds me…" He left the sentence hanging. This time the pause was intentional. He wanted Sureshock and Sparkplug to fill in the blanks, so they could spare him from filling them himself.

After yet another moment of silence, Leader-1 turned back away from the wall. His eyes were imploring. "Please," he said, "I beg you. Don't send me back out there. Don't make me leave this place. I'll do whatever you want. Whatever you ask of me, I'll do without question. Just not that. Anything but that. I can't endure all that a second time. I don't have the strength." He stopped. His agonized eyes were on Sureshock; Sparkplug was forgotten. Leader-1 must've realized that it was in Sureshock's hands his fate lay. Sureshock was the one who needed to be convinced. Sparkplug was just a third wheel.

They both waited for a second, thinking he had more to say. But he was finished. The weight he'd been carrying for who-knows-how-long, maybe thousands of years, had been lifted, and the burden now belonged to Sureshock. The trial was over; he was waiting for the verdict.

Sparkplug glanced up at Leader-1, still looking guilty. He deliberated for a few minutes, trying to find something to say. "Leader-1…" he began uneasily. "Don't think I don't understand what you've been through. I shouldn't have been so harsh on you before. But still, duties are duties. You took a vow to do everything in your power to help us. We still need your skills, and if you stay here-"

"Fine," Sureshock said suddenly.

Leader-1 started, looking as though he dared to hope. Sparkplug looked surprised. "Fine?" he repeated dumbly.

Sureshock gave him a meaningful glance.

"Fine," Sparkplug echoed. He sat there for a second before frowning up at Sureshock. "Why is that fine?" he asked, obviously very confused.

Sureshock didn't answer right away. He was gazing at Leader-1, apparently lost in thought. "You were right about what you said before, Sparkplug," he finally said slowly, not removing his eyes from Leader-1. "We all promised to do our part to escape this war, despite what we may have gone through in the past. We all swore that no matter what pain we may have experienced or what hardships we'd suffered, we would leave all of that behind us and work to the best of our ability. That's the oath we made.

"But Leader-1's case is unique," he went on, shifting the focus of his gaze to Sparkplug. He bent down, apparently to create the illusion that he was only talking to him. It had a kind of looming effect; Sparkplug seemed to shrink a little. "No one here can claim to have been through what Leader-1 was forced to endure. He has been obviously shaken by his enslavement, can't you see that?"

At that moment, three pairs of optics flickered over to Leader-1 and back.

After the pause, Sureshock resumed, "I do not think it is in our place to force Leader-1 to do something that he feels he cannot do. If we make him act the way we want, we are no better than the Decepticons. I think High Wire would agree." Sureshock straightened and looked straight into Leader-1's eyes. "Leader-1, considering all the factors, I have decided to grant your request. You may stay here."

Leader-1 looked as though he hardly dared to believe it. "Thank you," he breathed, deeply relieved. "You don't know what this means to me. I'm in your debt."

"Not at all," said Sureshock calmly. He seemed pleased with Leader-1's relief. "You don't owe me anything. Consider this your break, Leader-1. You've earned it."

_Slag yeah, he has,_ I thought smugly. He had won. Leader-1 was victorious. It would take me 'til later to realize that what this place symbolized to me, it meant the exact opposite to him. I saw it as a prison, a place where I was being held against my will. To Leader-1, it was safety, a refuge. A guaranteed stronghold against "Him," whoever that was. I had never thought of Leader-1 as a coward before, but now I was seeing that there was at least one person, or thing, that he feared more than any other. Makes you think, doesn't it?

Unfortunately, I hardly had time to reflect. Before I knew it, Sureshock was saying, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go check on the workers," and turning to walk out the door.

At this point I was having what could be delicately described as an "Aw, frag," moment. I backed away from the door and looked around wildly. _What should I do!? He's gonna see me! He's gonna walk right back here and see me, and then he'll know I heard everything! Where should I go!?_ I was totally trapped. I couldn't run; my clanging footsteps would give me away. I couldn't hide; there wasn't anywhere I could. It was all just blank walls. I couldn't transform; I still had the oil. The trail of flammable liquid would give me away pretty quickly. My mind was racing… and going nowhere. No solution came to me. No way to make myself disappear dawned. It was like I was speeding off to reach some destination without realizing that I was still caught on the starting point.

Maybe if I'd had enough time, I would've come up with some brilliant solution. Maybe I would've thought of a way to make it seem like I hadn't heard a word and was just passing by. It could've been a feat of utter genius.

Of course, we'll never know now, because right then and there, Sureshock walked out of the room, looked around, and saw me.

I don't think it's really necessary for me to say that when Sureshock turned and fixed his hazy gaze on me, it was a very awkward moment. Naturally, I was having a panic attack. I already had my reputation as a thief and had enough people treating me like a dangerous fugitive without anything else smearing my record. Now that Sureshock had caught me eavesdropping, how much farther would I fall? Would everyone know that the thief, that's right, that thief, had been sneaking around to spy on the officers? Would they decide that I couldn't be trusted after all and just keep me here _forever?_

I probably shouldn't have freaked out that much though, because Sureshock didn't really seem all that mad. Not even shocked, for that matter. More like I was some sort of interesting object he had just found on the ground and he was thinking, _Hmm. Now how did this get here?_

We stood there, staring at each other for a few seconds, before the thought ran through my head, _Don't just stand there! Say something! Explain yourself!_ But what was I supposed to say? "Uh," I started weakly. I felt absolutely pathetic. "I was just… I mean… Uh." Nothing else would come out. My brain was still fried and nothing would register.

But here's the thing: Sureshock didn't turn me in. He just kept staring absently at me, before he briskly turned and walked down the hall and through the door to the hangar, leaving me standing there, gaping.

If I had been in shock before, now I was floored. I felt a little dizzy. Why hadn't he turned me in? Heck, why hadn't he even said anything to me? If he wasn't going to get me in trouble, why didn't he at least tell me off? It didn't make any sense. I thought quickly; he seemed like a distant, unconcerned person. But did he really just not care that much? It seemed unlikely. He obviously cared about Leader-1's plight, after all.

Leader-1. As soon as I thought of him, my brief encounter with Sureshock vanished. After that ravaging storm, that rippling shockwave, nearly getting caught for doing something I shouldn't was practically nothing. It was a puny firecracker next to a bolt of lightning, a small kitten next to a tiger. I stood next to that wall with my thoughts churning. I half-wanted to look back into the room where he and Sparkplug still were, to see what else they might be saying, but after such a close call, I dared not to.

So now, the truth. Or part of it, I guess. I was wildly excited; I'd found out everything, and yet… I had found out nothing. There was so much Leader-1 had been unable to say, so much that was still a mystery. But still, this was a step forward. Never before had I seen him so frank and open about his past. He never let himself reveal that much in front of us, though it wasn't hard to see why. If Inferno had seen this now…

At the thought of Inferno, I suddenly remembered Blackout and Ironhide. They were still waiting for me. I'd kept them for too long. No doubt a brawl had broken out by now. It was time to go.

I set off, down the corridor to the hangar, still thinking hard. Different images kept flashing through my mind. I was seeing an anguished face, a burning village, a monster bound in chains.

A prisoner to something dark.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

…….

…………….

I regret nothing!

Wow, two chapters in a row? Hot dog!

I pretty much had this scene planned out from the beginning. It was a part of the series as much as Grid himself. There are several scenes like this, that were always a part of the Plan. They're the major stepping-stones in the story's plot.

Most of the time, anyway.

Maybe it's just me and my insecurities, but I kind of feel like the series is getting confusing and hard to read. I'm sorry. I blame myself. I'm just so tired all the time now. I have no idea. It seems like a spend half the day in bed. It's frustrating, knowing I could be getting things done and not having the willpower to do so. Sigh…

Well, I think I've talked enough for today. Later! Happy reading!


	13. Help

**Help**

I walked back to the hangar, being careful not to spill anything and keeping a look out for either Leader-1 or Sparkplug. No doubt they wouldn't be quite as forgiving as Sureshock had been. Once, when I was nearly at the door, I swore I heard footsteps coming up behind me, but when I turned around, there was no one there. _You're getting paranoid, Grid,_ I told myself as I walked through the doorway.

When I arrived back at our little work camp, I saw, to my immense relief, that nothing had really changed. Both Blackout and Ironhide were in pretty much the same places doing the same things they had been doing when I left. Ironhide was still working dutifully, and Blackout was still sitting on the floor, chattering. Only now, Ironhide was the only one to talk to, so Blackout had to endure having only one set of ears to absorb everything he was saying. (Actually, he seemed pretty okay with it.) I quickened my pace slightly when they were within sight, wondering, somewhat absently, what I was going to tell them if they asked what I had been doing all this time. I really had taken too long. Surely they would've noticed.

Naturally, my mind was in a jumble after everything I'd just heard. All the images and voices I'd picked up in the last hour or so were swirling in my head, making me deaf and blind to everything else. I was so wrapped up in trying to piece all this information together, not to mention coming up with a good story, that I neglected to call out a greeting to the two of them. It didn't really occur to me that I should probably inform them that I was back.

So it caught me a little off-guard when I heard a loud, obnoxious voice shout out, "Hey, Gridsy! You got my oil?" like a firecracker, or something.

I started involuntarily and looked up from the spot on the ground that I had been contemplating. Blackout was sitting up now, propped up on his arms, his head cocked to one side expectantly. Ironhide, for her part, was shooting Blackout a half-second's glare for his big mouth. I wasn't supposed to have his oil at all, remember.

It took me a second for my spark to calm down enough for me to respond. I don't need to get so worked up. I wasn't a criminal. Well, not anymore. "Yeah. Yeah, sure," I said vacantly. I opened my chest compartment and handed him the small barrel, along with his ration card. He reached out and took them eagerly. Ironhide continued to watch him, her face unreadable.

I didn't really think much of that… until I saw Blackout take the barrel and hold it right next to his face, directly at eye level. Then, he held the side of his head next to it, almost close enough to touch it, and shook it around a little, listening to the liquid swish inside. Next, he intently inspected the bottom of the barrel, then the top, then traced around the rim of the lid with his finger.

I had a hunch about what he was up to, and it made me uncomfortable.

"Umm…" I hedged, a little wary, "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to make sure nothing's missing!" he announced proudly, setting the barrel down in front of him.

I felt my optic start to twitch again, just a little. "Let me guess," I said dryly. "Ironhide told you to do this?"

"Yup!" he tattled immediately, punching a small hole in the lid. "She's super paranoid." He shook his head when he said this, in that mock-scolding way of his. Ironhide looked away, her cheeks burning. I could tell from this gesture and his tone that it was she, not Blackout, that didn't trust me. That made me feel a little better. I walked over to the point on the ship where Ironhide was working alone. She trying to weld another wall together but was having trouble holding it up. I placed both my hands against it and steadied it for her. She looked up at me, slightly surprised, then cleared her throat and bent down to get the torch. I waited patiently for her to get it.

While I was waiting, out of the corner of my eye I watched Blackout. He was using his right hand to widen the hole he had made in the lid of his oil drum. Once that was done, he stared at it for one or two seconds, then plunged his left arm straight into the barrel, right up to the elbow.

Okay, this time I had no idea at all what he was doing.

"Uh, Blackout?" I started. "Shouldn't you be drinking that?"

"Oh, I am," he said simply, not looking up.

That struck me as a weird way to drink motor oil, until I realized what the problem was. Oh, of course. Blackout had no face.

At this point, Ironhide had found the torch and was proceeding to weld the wall together. I looked over at her, then back at Blackout, frowning. "Geez, Blackout," I half-scolded. "You try and get her to bring you refreshments, and then make her do all the work? You're diabolical."

To my surprise, Ironhide cut in before Blackout could. "Actually…" she started, flushing slightly, not taking her eyes off the flame in front of her, "He's more helpful like this." I saw her flick her gaze at me, then quickly look away.

I stared at her for half a second, before breaking into a triumphant smirk. "Ha!" I shouted, probably louder than necessary. "I told you!"

"He did tell you!" Blackout called in agreement, pulling his arm out of the barrel. He was looking up at Ironhide now, his tone perfectly matching mine. "But _you_ didn't believe him! _You_ had to learn the hard way!" As if to punctuate this sentence, he grabbed a polishing rag off the ground and began to swab his arm with it. It kind of ruined the effect, to be honest.

I turned over to look back at Ironhide, not liking the sound of that. "'Learn the hard way'?" I repeated, suspicious. She still didn't look up, but her cheeks were burning hotter than ever. "So, something _did_ happen while I was gone?"

Ironhide stood up, the bottom half of the new section completely welded. "A few things, yeah," she admitted reluctantly. She turned the torch back on and another stream of fire came out, billowing over the ship's hull. "No one got hurt, though," she added, watching the flames come out. Her eyes were impossible to read; they molded together into one narrow glass strip that ran across her forehead, but I could see her mouth actually curve into a _smile._ That was a first.

I moved farther away from the heat waves, relieved. "Well, that's the most important thing," I said, satisfied. After coming this far, I really didn't want to see the look on Leader-1's face when he saw that Blackout had been injured, _again, _when I wasn't even there.

Leader-1…

Suddenly, Ironhide turned to me, actually _turned to me,_ and said, "What about you?"

"Wha-?" I asked, not really comprehending. I'd had to pull myself out of my train of thought and, as usual, left my coherency behind. "What about me?"

"Did anything happen to you while you were getting the oil? You seemed to be taking a really long time."

I stomped on the urge to cringe. Here it was, the dreaded question. "Oh… nothing really," I said lamely, not looking at her. I wasn't about to tell her that I had been eavesdropping on the officers. That would end her newfound trust pretty quick. But there was more to it than that, really. Something about the nature of what Leader-1 had said made me instinctively realize that this was not something I should broadcast.

Not like I could, anyway.

Ironhide didn't buy it. She frowned, and I thought I could see another question hovering on her lips.

But before she could ask, Blackout cut in first. "Oh, yeah?" he responded loudly. "Then what were you and Inferno doing in the hallway together?"

It took me a couple seconds for that to sink in. I turned slowly to Blackout, blinking. "Me and Inferno?" I repeated, puzzled.

"Yeah!" said Blackout, not noticing my total lack of comprehension. "What were you guys doing out there? Were you having a fist fight?"

_What?_ I thought vacantly. What was he talking about? For a just half of a second, I thought that maybe Blackout had finally lost his mind. But then I remembered something from three nights ago.

Blackout had radar. And not just any radar. The most advanced detection system that I had ever seen to this day. He could tell, within a radius of several miles, not only where different objects were located, but what said objects actually were. Just from his readings, he could tell whether something was large or small, round or square, and (sometimes) dangerous or friendly. He could even tell different people apart in the same way. He could tell me from Sparkplug, or Leader-1, or Elita, or anyone else, even if he couldn't see them with his single eye. The only thing Blackout's radar couldn't detect was laser fire, and that was only because lasers are basically just light. Light that can create explosions and blow holes into people, sure, but light nonetheless.

Most importantly of all, his radar system wasn't tricked by even the most effective cloaking devices. Even if something (or someone) was completely invisible to the naked eye, Blackout could still tell exactly where it was and what it was.

Oh… _Slag._

I kept staring, trying hard not to think. I didn't want to think. I knew what was coming. Realization, as sharp and scorching as a lightning bolt, was about to hit me, and I would stagger from the power of it. I didn't want that. I didn't want to face reality. So I stopped my mind and tried to shut down, at least for a little while, in a doomed attempt to stave off the shock. I knew it couldn't last.

Ironhide, who had a developed a feeling of apathy for every time Blackout spoke, was suddenly very interested in our conversation. She leaned back to look past me, her visor-optics also staring at him, mouth pressed tight.

"Come to think of it," Blackout mused to himself, looking down at his empty barrel, "Neither one of you seemed to be moving all that much. You were both just sort of standing there." He shook his head. It was all clearly a complete mystery to him.

Not to Ironhide. She caught on quickly. "Grid?" she asked, fixing her gaze on me. I felt her eyes drill into me. I didn't respond. Still trying to drag it out. I was afraid of the burn. "You didn't… You didn't know he was there, did you?"

I remained silent for a moment, still stalling. Finally, I gave up. I knew I couldn't drag it out any further. Instead, I began to brace myself. "N-no," I croaked, my voice shaking slightly. It had been surprisingly difficult to remember where it was and how to access it. "I didn't see him anywhere. It was just me."

But even as I said this, I knew it wasn't true, even if I had thought it was. I remembered, just moments before, the sound of footsteps echoing down that long, "empty" hallway, and the lightning hit. I had braced for it, but I still hadn't been ready. I felt my spark crackle erratically, and I nearly doubled over. I put my hand to my chest with what intent I have no idea. I felt slightly sick.

Inferno. Slagging Inferno. Son-of-a-glitch Inferno. _He'd_ been there, in that hall, near enough for Blackout to assume that I knew he was there, too. _He'd _seen me, pressed against the wall, listening attentively to something I shouldn't have been listening to, something I had no business to know. And _he_ now knew I'd been doing something wrong.

But that wasn't what I was worried about. That wasn't what was making my stomach seize up and my head swim.

He'd heard. Inferno had heard. I didn't know how long he'd been standing there. I had no clue how much had been playing for him to hear. But there wasn't any doubt in my mind that he had been listening. _That_ was what was making me sick.

At the rate my head was spinning, it was hard to think anything very clearly. I honestly couldn't remember if Leader-1 had said anything extraordinarily vital, something Inferno could possibly use against him. But, really, it didn't actually matter. The actual content of the things he'd heard, they didn't matter to me. Just the mere fact that he'd been there sneaking around like a filthy rat, just the idea that he might have possibly been following me, just the mental image of the look on his face as he watched Leader-1's tortured expression, that was enough to fuel this nausea rocketing inside me. And, suddenly, this anger, too. I'm not sure how it happened, how all that hate and rage flared up in me so quickly, but it was definitely there. Out of nowhere, I had the irrational desire to go out and find the bloody glitch-head and punch his lights out.

I'd never before had a fantasy like this, and it startled me.

They noticed. "Hey, Grid, are you okay?" Blackout asked, finally concerned. "You kind of froze up there for a nanoclick."

I didn't answer him right away. I was staring at the floor in front of me, optics narrowed. The rage was still building up inside me. "He was there," I muttered after a little while, "He was invisible. Stupid. How could I be so stupid?" I felt my voice rising. "He was probably right in front of me! Why didn't I think to che-?"

I stopped there, cutting myself off. Something just occurred to me. I looked up. "Listen, Blackout," I said turning to him, "Did you have tabs on him the whole time? Did he follow me out? How long was he out there with me?"

Blackout's optic winked off and on. He was blinking. He didn't understand what I was getting so worked up about. "He didn't follow you out," he said, after a while. "You were already walking back from the storage room by the time he started to head for the door. By the time he was outside, you had stopped." There was no hesitation in his answers. I had to remember that radar from now on. "My guess," he continued, "is that there was about a one or two nanoclick time frame between when you stopped moving and when he went over to where you were."

One or two nanoclicks. So he'd heard everything. Frag him.

"I'm pretty sure he followed you back in, though," Blackout finished, as if this was something that I needed to know.

"That glitchhead." I stepped away from the ship's hull with an odd jerking motion, thinking hard. Ironhide didn't bother trying to stop me. She, too, seemed oddly tense.

"Grid," she said, "I think you should turn him in." There was no hint of distrust or anything else in her voice. We were way past that point now.

"She's right!" Blackout agreed. His playful attitude that he always used was completely gone. Now, he was all business. The transformation was a little disturbing, really. "Turn the sucker in! There's gotta be some kind of rule against sneaking around invisible like that."

It did seem like a good idea, but I immediately shook my head. "No," I said, turning my back on both of them. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" They both said it different ways and at different times, but the meaning was exactly the same for both of them. _Why not? Turn him in right now. What's holding you back?_

What indeed. I knew the answer to that question. Turning Inferno in would prove very difficult. For starters, apart from the whole "listening in" thing, he hadn't really done anything wrong. His only real "crime," so to speak, was eavesdropping on an officer, and there's no way I could say for sure that that was what he had been doing… without revealing that I had been there, listening myself. Not to mention that he would snitch on me right away if he was found out.

Of course, Inferno couldn't turn me in for the same reason. We were both caught in each other's trap.

I hate irony.

"I can't… I… I just can't," I told them, putting my hand to my head. "This isn't a big deal anyway. We can't make this any bigger than it really is. That's what he wants, I think."

Both of them stared at me with looks of mixed incredulity and, in Ironhide's case, obvious frustration. After all Inferno had put me through, after my shocked fear and anger when I'd found out what he'd done _this _time, neither of them could fathom my reluctance to, to put it childishly, get Inferno in trouble. They didn't know about the anvil hanging above my head.

This time, they both had different reactions. "I don't think so, Gridsy," said Blackout musingly. "I think what Inferno would really want is for you to keep quiet and let him do whatever he wants. You shouldn't be such a pushover, man."

Ironhide, the irritated one, had something a little different to say. "This isn't one of those pride things, is it?" she asked coldly.

Now that, I had not been expecting. I whirled around to stare blankly at her. Pride? What on Cybertron was she talking about?

When she saw that I was finally looking her in the eye, she tried a different approach. Her voice became calmer; she struggled to appear patient. "Look, Grid," she said, "It's perfectly fine. I'm sure Leader-1 or anyone else won't think any less of you if you just tell them the truth."

I'd given a violent start when she mentioned Leader-1's name and sprung into full-blown panic mode. _How could she have known?_ Then I realized that that's not what she was getting at at all. Oh, she wasn't on to me. She had assumed that the reason I was so unwilling to turn in Inferno was that I _didn't want to look weak in front of Leader-1._ I relaxed my posture and frowned at her for a second. I mean, geez, do I really look that insecure? Then I turned away from her again. Whatever. Let them think whatever they want. Anything's better than the truth.

Ironhide didn't give up that easy. "Grid," she called again.

"Hmm?" I asked, not moving.

The impatience was creeping back into her voice. She needed a couple of seconds to regain control. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked in that sort of pained kind of tone where you really want to yell, but you can't.

I pretended to study the blueprint on the wall.

Ironhide's voice got a little louder. "I said, 'Did you hear me?'" she repeated.

"About the CR chamber," I said, pointing to the blueprint. "How do you think they'll get it down here? I mean, I don't really think it'll fit-"

"Slaggit, Grid! Don't try to distract me!" she snapped, clearly not amused. "I said, I think you should tell Leader-1 about this."

"Well, that's _your_ opinion, isn't it?" I retorted, not turning around.

Her cheeks grew warm again as she glowered at me. "Why the slag are you being so difficult about this?" she demanded. "All you have to do is just tell Leader-1 what happened! How complicated is that?"

Primus, if only she knew.

Okay. So distracting her wasn't going to work. I decided to play along with her theory. Simple enough. All I had to do was lie, but keep it vague enough to apply to the truth. Like Leader-1. I smiled ruefully to myself. I was going to try to imitate _him,_ of all people. "I can't do it," I muttered, grateful my head was turned. That way, she couldn't see how guilty and unconvincing I knew my eyes must've looked.

"You can't do _what?"_ she snapped.

"I can't face him," I murmured, overacting a bit. "I just can't. Don't ask me to, please."

"Oh, no! I'm not falling for that one!" she retorted. The femme looked a little bit like she was about to throw something at me. "You're trying to get me to feel sorry for you! Well, it's not happening, pal! Why are you being such a sparkling about this?"

Okay, this was getting out of hand. For the Primus-knows-how-many-now time, I was the center of attention. I felt curious eyes within a 15-foot radius shifting between Ironhide and me.

Even Blackout seemed to notice the tension. He suddenly sat up and looked around, making a huge show of it. "Um, guys?" he asked, making a feeble attempt to get our attention.

"Look you," I hissed, turning around. This time, it was my own cheeks that were growing warm, "What happens to me and who I complain to is _my _business, not yours! Why do you care so much about my personal problems, anyway?"

"I just want to know why you're hiding!" Ironhide yelled.

"I'm not hiding!" I lied.

"Hey… guys? There's a, uh…"

Ironhide snorted, ignoring Blackout. "Honestly," she snarled darkly, "You are the most ungrateful little twerp I've ever met."

"Guys! Seriously. I know you're having a tiff right now, but-"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, also ignoring Blackout.

She didn't answer. Just glowered at me.

"Hey!" I snapped, my voice growing. "Answer me!"

She pressed her lips into a tight line and looked away, towards the somewhat gleaming surface of the ship. Finally, after what seemed like a long time, she turned back to me, her stare fierce. "I'm talking about you and Leader-1!" she snapped.

I stared at her, stunned, but not really getting it. As soon as the words were out, she turned her head away and scrutinized the ship again. I suddenly got the impression that she had regretted saying that. That she had been storing that up for a long time, and suddenly, there it was, and she couldn't take it back.

She stood like that for a while, her face turned towards the ship. I waited. "Everyone's noticed," she said after a while. Her voice was tamer, somehow. Softer. I hadn't been expecting that. It made me jump, the quietness."Leader-1 has been… unusually kind to you. He's trusted you, stood up for you, even confided in you. I know you've noticed. Everyone else has."

I stared at her, speechless. I wish I had a better word to describe what I was feeling. I wish there was some word for the awe and the gratitude, the disbelief and the remorse, but there isn't. Ironhide looked up. She must've seen my expression, the silent wonder that had stolen my voice and gotten me all choked up. She snorted again. "What?" she asked, coldly. "Did you think he gave everyone that kind of attention? You think he frets and defends everyone like he's doing for you? Not a chance. I'll tell you something right now, Grid. There are very few people on this planet that he'll even give a second thought, and it looks like you're one of them."

Great, now I really couldn't talk. And was it just me, or did Ironhide's voice seem somewhat… bitter?

"I mean…" she went on, her voice becoming strangely pleading. "I don't pretend to understand the way he thinks. No one really does. But it seems to me like he's really worried about you!"

Before I got a chance to let that sink in, Ironhide abruptly jerked her head up to glare at me. Stupid me, all softened up by her earlier speech, flinched violently at her hostile gaze.

"But you…" she growled, the ugliness back in her tone. "Instead of thanking him, instead of repaying him, instead of trusting him the way he trusted you, you simply shut yourself in and hide like the frightened coward you are! Is that the way you want to live your life? All shut in that way, never opening up to anyone? Is that it?"

Of all the words in that paragraph, only one really hit home, and that was "coward." I don't know what it was about that word that struck me so hard in exactly the wrong place, but suddenly it was looping over and over in my processor, grating against the inside of my head until I swore I heard it in my ears. It ran, _"Coward, coward, coward. Hide like a frightened coward, coward, coward."_

"_You are… a coward."_

That was it. I snapped. The end of the loop sprang apart with an abrupt twang, and instead of the echo, all that was left in my head was a loud screeching. All the awe I'd been feeling was gone. All the regret was gone. All the remorse, gone. Gratitude, gone. Wonder, gone. Now I was filled to the bursting point with a searing frustration, and it had to come out.

I charged over to where she was, smacked the torch out of her hand, and glared straight into her eyes. _"I. Am not. A coward,"_ I hissed, trying to make my voice sound low and dangerous. The torch fell clattering to the floor and burned there for a few seconds before shutting off. The space between us reeked with the heat of it.

Ironhide didn't wince or flinch away the way I wanted her to. She just stared back at me coldly. The stare only infuriated me further. It was exactly the kind of high-and-mighty gaze that I hated. "Not a coward?" she repeated flatly, "Then tell me, why are you hiding?"

She spoke as if she were speaking down to me. Like I was some little kid throwing a tantrum. I hated it. My right hand began to shake violently, and suddenly I remembered my buzz saw. The image of me brandishing it in her face, silencing her "superior" mouth, made itself heard in my mind. I recoiled from the violent impulse and balled my right hand into a fist. I would not let it escalate to that point. I would not be an Inferno. I would not.

"I don't think I need to explain myself to you," I snarled. My saw did not want to be restrained. It fought me, trying to get my hand to fold in on itself into the necessary shape. I moved the treacherous hand behind my back.

"Oh, you don't?" Ironhide said sarcastically, "Then who will you explain yourself to? Well, Grid? Tell me that. Is there anyone here that you trust?"

I still have no idea what possessed this woman to make her think that she had the right to ask me that. Who I trusted, who I considered to be my friend, something so private and so personal… What on Cybertron made her think that I would answer something like that? I'd just met her today!

"What the frag kind of question is that!?" I roared, barely restraining myself. "What makes you think you have the right to interrogate me like that!? If I had asked you something like _that,_ would you have answered!? No, you wouldn't have! This is a load of scrap! I'm not a criminal! Why does everyone insist on treating me like one!?"

"Grid…"

"Shut _up,_ Blackout!" I snapped. Blackout put his hand down and immediately became silent. I'd be guilty about that later. No one was going to stop me this time. I whirled back to Ironhide. "Now let's get something straight right away," I snarled, "I don't need you to tell me what you think I'm dong wrong. I don't need you to tell me what you think I need to change. And I certainly don't need you to tell me who my friends are!" I was shouting now. For the hundredth time in my life, there was a crowd gathering around me. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care. "I know that I used to be a thief! I realize that! So why do you people insist on taking it upon yourselves to remind me every moment of my life!? You think I'm proud of what I used to be!? I'm not! I never have been! Never once in my life have I been proud of myself! But that doesn't mean that _you,"_ I hissed the word, narrowing my eyes, "can put me down like this! Why does everyone always get on my case!? I'm a refugee, too! I went through this war! I've suffered just as much as you have! So why don't you just treat me like everyone else!? Would that be so much to ask!? Why is everyone against me!? Why!?"

"Everyone is not against you," Ironhide said calmly. There was nothing that resembled hate or anger in her eyes. Only cold disdain.

"Don't give me that!" I shouted, shaking with rage. "Inferno started on me! Sparkplug started on me! DON'T YOU START ON ME, TOO!" Ironhide's haughty, indifferent expression did not change. It infuriated me, that gaze. Why wasn't she mad? Why wasn't she upset? I wanted her to yell. I wanted her to show some flicker of emotion, something to show that she was on my level and not the superior being she was pretending to be. It was like she was taunting me with her apathy. I hated it. I hated her indifference. I wanted to hit her. I wanted it so bad.

But I didn't give in. Something in my mind kept seeing Inferno's sneering face, his smug optics fixed on me. Primus, I couldn't become _that!_ No amount of vengeance was worth _that!_

So I hit the floor instead. I fell on my hands and knees and started pounding on the cold metal ground as hard as I could, as if it was to blame for all that was wrong with my life. I dragged my hands across it, claw-like, trying to tear it to pieces. When that didn't work, I whipped out my buzz saw and began slicing at it. I peered through the red haze that had enveloped my eyes. Not a scratch. I became aware of hushed whispers and murmurs all around me, and started slicing all the more viciously. The whining and screeching of the complaining metal did nothing to drown them out. Shut up, shut up, shut up. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

"Why!?" I repeated over and over, raging at the ground. "Why does everyone keep trying to tell me how to live!? Why am _I _always the one who's without worth!? Why can't everyone just _leave me alone!?"_

"Grid."

I froze, startled. That voice… that wasn't Blackout's voice. My hands, which had been like the claws of some desperate animal a moment before, were now completely still. I don't know what it was, but something about that calm, misty voice had completely sucked away all my fury and brought me back to my senses. My hazy red vision was suddenly clear. The screeching that had been running through my head was now silent. I readjusted my optics and noticed that one of my hands was grasping Ironhide's blowtorch, the thumb resting on the button. Holy cow, when did that happen? When did I grab the torch? I had no memory of grabbing the torch. When…?

"Grid," that same voice said. "Grid, look at me."

I hesitated, but eventually I raised my eyes to peer at the speaker.

"Sureshock," I murmured, eyes wide.

He was standing before me, his calm gaze fixed on me.. As usual, he had this strange, otherworldly aura around him that made him seem out of place down here with us mere mortals. Maybe it was this aura that made me shudder and draw away from him, wide-eyed, like some kind of wild animal.

From somewhere in the crowd I heard Blackout's attempted whisper: "I knew he was coming! I tried to warn you guys, _but you wouldn't listen!"_

"Shh!"

Sureshock turned his head slowly in the direction of the whispers. Not a hint of emotion could be seen in his face, but Blackout and the others instantly became silent when he looked their way. He kept a steady gaze on Blackout for a few more seconds, optics flickering, before turning slowly back to me. Behind that layer of apparent indifference that coated his eyes, I could actually see a glimmer of sympathy… the same sympathy he had shown to Leader-1 moments before. It made me feel even more pathetic and exposed, that look.

"Grid?" He asked again. "Grid, is everything alright?"

Under normal circumstance, I probably would've snapped at him for asking such a stupid question. But everything felt so _heavy_ now; I just didn't have the energy. "Yeah… Yeah everything's fine," I said flatly, looking back at the ground. I was still grasping the torch. That disturbed me.

Sureshock cocked his head to one side, considering me for a moment. "Are you quite sure?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah…" I said again, convincing no one.

There was another pause. The crowd had not dispersed, but stood gathered around, tightly packed, watching. Through the heaviness, I felt a rush of annoyance. What the slag were they waiting for? Why couldn't they just leave?

Sureshock finally broke the silence. "Do you… perhaps need a break?" he asked.

I looked up at him for a second, surprised, then back down again. "Yeah…" I muttered, feeling like a complete idiot. "Yeah, that might be good."

"Alright then," said Sureshock, still appraising me quietly. "Go out into the hall, Grid. You're done for the day."

I hesitated for just a second more before dropping the torch and rising shakily to my feet. I felt conscious of dozens of pairs of eyes all locked onto me. For just a second, I thought I saw Inferno in the crowd, his eyes slanted into a cruel smirk, but I might have just imagined it later.

Just as I was staring to walk away, Blackout turned to Sureshock. "I'll go with him," he volunteered. His voice was less painfully cheerful than usual, but it still didn't suit the situation very well.

I turned to glare darkly at Blackout. "Oh, no you won't," I muttered.

"No, that's a good idea," said Sureshock, still looking at Blackout, "Take Blackout with you. He's not doing anything productive here, anyway." He turned to Ironhide. "Ironhide, are you alright working here by yourself?"

Ironhide's optics flickered to me for about a half-second before refocusing on Sureshock. She lowered her head slightly. "It isn't a problem, sir," she said quietly.

"Excellent," said Sureshock, nodding with approval. "You two," he said, addressing me and Blackout, "You may go.

"Everyone else! You all have been working so hard, and I'm very pleased with your progress," Sureshock announced to the crowd. "Just two more megacycles, and then you can leave."

The resulting cheer that came out of this speech was drowned out by the slam of the metallic door behind us.

As soon as I was out in the hallway, I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, not wanting to raise my eyes, not wanting to think or feel. I had spied on Leader-1, betraying his trust. I had created a huge scene in front of everyone, humiliating myself on a massive scale. Worst of all, I had had to leave work early, walking away pretty much alone under the screening of all those eyes. I felt more like an outcast than ever. I didn't want to think about anything anymore. I just wanted to lie down.

Blackout stood guard over me, not saying a word as I sat perfectly still, wallowing in self-pity.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Yo! What is up!? It's been a while, hasn't it? Oh, yes it has. I'm really, incredibly sorry that this chapter couldn't get published any sooner. For those of you who don't know (which would be… very few of you) school started in the past few months. School, I can handle. Freakishly huge amounts of homework? Not so much.

Seriously, the workload this year is way heavier than it's ever been before. I've been so swamped with work that my chances to write what I actually _want_ to write are few, short, and far in between. I don't mean to gripe about my life online; I'm just trying to make you understand.

And I didn't meet my goal for the summer. I didn't even get close to it. That makes me very sad.

But I haven't given up hope! I will finish this series! I swear it!

Thanks for reading and enjoy!


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